


An American Film (On hiatus)

by HoliGAY



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: A TON OF ANGST, A ton of comfort too, A ton of mental abuse, Aaaaand SweFin, Almost everyone is lying, Alternate Universe - Human, America is oblivious, Cults, Demonic Possession, Drama & Romance, England is PROTECTIVE, Gangs, God poor spain, Gun Violence, He fails though-, Honestly yes probably, I used to be good at tagging, I've lost inspiration :(, Kinda Weird, M/M, Multiple Pairings, Not Anymore, Okay...minor FrUk, On Hiatus, POV Multiple, Poor France he loves England, Poor everyone they all get BEAT, Possible Character Death, Possible Smut?, Some Established Relationships, Some religious shit-, Spamano is established, There's a lot of lying, UsUk is not, Violence, just read it it'll make sense, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:09:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 51,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoliGAY/pseuds/HoliGAY
Summary: Alfred F. Jones, an up and coming actor who just got his big break. At least, that's what he thinks it is. While, Arthur finds the whole thing sketchy, some new Hollywood budget 'movie' studio just hires Alfred before meeting him?Well, the film industry just took a dark turn down holes of cults, the mob, guns, and one man behind it all who wants to go down in the books with a bang.He's taking as many people down as he can with him.
Relationships: (Minor) Denmark/Norway, (One sided) France/England, (kinda one sided) Prussia/Austria, America/England (Hetalia), Canada/France (Hetalia), Canada/Prussia (Hetalia), Finland/Sweden (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia), Lithuania/Poland (Hetalia), South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god, I'm finally posting this nightmare that has been ROTTING in my google docs for MONTHS. I just got back into this fandom and I remembered I had a half finished fic. I am working on it, chapter 3 is almost done but this thing is so hard to write my god- oh yeah, here's a name list.
> 
> America: Alfred  
> England: Arthur  
> France: Francis  
> Germany: Ludwig  
> Italy: Feliciano  
> Romano: Lovino  
> Spain: Antonio  
> Canada: Matthew  
> Prussia: Gilbert  
> Austria: Roderich  
> Finland: Tino  
> Sweden: Berwald  
> Poland: Feliks  
> Lithunania: Toris

An American Film

\--------------------------------  
The Art of Signing a Contract  
Chapter One  
\--------------------------------

“Sign it. You won’t regret it.” A person wearing a dark hood slides Alfred the white sheet of paper. Alfred doesn’t find this suspicious in the slightest. This is the first time he’s ever been offered a lead role in a Hollywood budget and style movie. Alfred doesn’t care if they ask him to sign the contract in blood. They didn’t but still. He will if they ask. This has been Alfred’s dream all along. Ever since he could remember he’s always wanted to be an actor. This is his chance. 

Yet, the closer he brings the feather pen to the page, a nagging voice eggs on towards the back of his mind. The one voice Alfred never ceased to listen to. His best friend, Arthur.

“This doesn’t seem right. Think about this for a second.”

Alfred remembers those words, Arthur told him that just before getting a call to the office. A warning? Alfred highly doubts that. Maybe Arthur means the sale on fish tacos at that dubious Chinese restaurant. Yeah, $1.00 is pretty cheap.

“Come on, Alfred. You know how insane this sounds? You religiously search for casting calls all over America. Then, out of the blue, you get a crazy call saying you got the role even though you didn’t even act?”

Now Alfred is getting worried. Internalized thinking Arthur has a point. Through, it’s got to be because Alfred is so well known that this studio knew immediately he was suitable for the role. Even though the movies Alfred has worked on are only lesser known ones with an even smaller budget. So now Alfred is getting very worried or moreover, nervous about this movie.

“Sir? We need your signature to continue.”

The hooded figure speaks ominously, scooting the contract closer to Alfred. Internal Arthur is pretty much yelling inside Alfred’s head to run as fast as he can out of the studio. Sadly, Alfred is way too prideful to leave an opportunity like this on the table.

Alfred picks up the feather pen again,taking a deep breath then he signs his name on the white page. The ink takes a moment to settle, suddenly, the black turns to red. Maybe Alfred did sign the sheet in blood.

“Thank you, Sir. Now, here’s your script.”

The dark figure tosses a binder chock full of pages, each of them filled to the brim with words. 

“Wait...What?”

The person pushes Alfred out of the room with surprising force. Alfred works out in the gym nearly every day. He by no means isn’t easy to push around. 

“Yes, come back next week. We’ll have everything ready for you by that point.”

Now, is the exact moment Alfred regrets what he just did. He hasn’t even done anything with this studio but by being shoved out and told to come back next week, Alfred is worrying about the future. His future.

The wide metal doors swing open, the bright star that is the sun shines brightly, Alfred squints. Having been in such a dark room for so long really isn’t good for anyone’s eyesight. 

It takes Alfred a few moments to regain his sight without his glasses to see the outside world. Alfred looks straight ahead, seeing a very angry pair of eyebrows charging right to him.

“You signed it, didn’t you?”

Arthur was mad, not really like Alfred could understand why. Arthur is sort of a mystery to him.

“Come on, Artie I couldn’t pass up that opportunity! It’s a deal of a lifetime!” 

Arthur sighs, his very large brows scrunching together to form a thick line of angry brows.

“Alfred! You git! That’s so beyond stupid of you! Don’t you ever listen to me?”

Arthur sighs, irritated at the apparent fool that is Alfred. Alfred, in retaliation, raises his hands in surrender.

“I’m sorry! Okay? I just… This has been my dream since childhood. You remember, don’t you? When we were kids, how I always was the famous actor and you helped me make my grand debut?” 

Arthur looks Alfred up than down, a scowl practically permanently tattooed on his face. 

“I know, that’s why I’ve said before that I’ll help you anyway I can. Of course, helping you also means that i’m going to give you my input. My input is you have made an extremely stupid decision.”

Alfred throws his hands up in the air, confused.

“What?! How can I please you? There's nothing I can do, is there? I get a job as an actor, I get important roles in the movies I’ve worked on and now I finally get an offer that I’ve wanted for such a long time and all you do is criticize and say that it’s not right? Am I that much of a failure to you, Arthur?”

Alfred sighs in defeat. Throwing his hands down he starts to walk away.

“Wait! Listen to me, Alfred. The only reason why I say what I say is because I’m worried! I’ve heard the horror stories and how dangerous it is to be working on something so high profile. I wholeheartedly believe in you. Believe me.”

The hand on Alfred’s wrist, hearing Arthur say something like that, it felt so strange. All Alfred’s life he’s tried to impress Arthur, to be something he’s not. Eventually, he became that person. The overly confident man who is so outgoing, cheerful and energetic. Alfred can’t remember who he was as a child anymore. It’s beyond conflicting, especially to Alfred, who’s known Arthur since the age of five. Both of them were that age. They grew up together.

“I don’t know if I can believe you, you know how many times you’ve told me that? Then the next day you ridicule, ridicule me! I’m done!”

Alfred pulls his wrist away, fed up with what? Not even Alfred really knows.

Arthur remains silent, his jaw agape over the words that just came from Alfred’s mouth.

\-------------  
A Killer Lie  
\------------

The last thing Ludwig wants to do is lie. Even if it’s to protect the ones he loves, it still feels so wrong. 

“Luddy! Sell a ton of wursts today, okay!”

Ludwig, right then and there, wanted to tell Feliciano the truth. That no, he does not work abnormally long shifts for a wurst food truck. The truth is, he’s a hitman for hire. Why? It pays the bills. Ever since Feliciano got hit by that truck, he hasn’t been able to work. Ludwig still blames himself for the accident. Feliciano always tries to assure Ludwig it isn’t. That still doesn’t stop him from thinking that it is.

“Yeah...I will…”

The more contracts that Ludwig got, the higher the pay. Yet, the longer he stayed from home, the more suspicious everyone got. Feliciano keeps wanting to go to Ludwig’s fantasy food truck. Of course that means Ludwig has to come up with some insane excuses to keep him from finding out what’s actually going on.

Cold wind slaps Ludwig in the face, for it being summertime in America. Today was chilly. Not near what Ludwig will call cold. He grew up in Berlin, Germany. America’s cold is warm to Ludwig. Keeping secrets from people isn’t hard. Ludwig can easily lie to everyone. Everyone except Feliciano. Just looking into those deep brown eyes nearly draws the truth from Ludwig every time he sees Feliciano. Though Ludwig knows that if he did tell Feliciano, his precious Italian will wind up dead.

The ringing of Ludwig’s phone distracts him from his deep thinking, or better known as his happy thinking.

“Hello, this is Ludwig.”

The caller is silent for a moment before breathing heavily into the phone. Ludwig pulls it away from his ear, a few million thoughts passing through his mind.

“Yes, I have seen your ad at Quishi’s. I have a high payment for this one.”

Ludwig pulls the phone back to his ear, intrigued yet fearful of what this person will say.

“Okay. Who is it?”

Silence follows Ludwig’s question.

“His name is Alfred Freedom Jones. He is the actor for the...Film. Marakesh’s project.”

Ludwig swallows, he remembers how horrifying it is at Marakesh’s studio. Still, something seemed wrong. Marakesh is an ally to Quishi. They have fought together as joint kingpins.

“Where is he? I’m on the case.”

The voice on the other side laughs, there's a strong Russian draw towards the end of the laughter.

“A nearby spy just saw him. He’s by that BernField Cafe.”

Wait...Now? Ludwig’s head starts spinning at the thought. A murder? In broad daylight? What if somehow, Feliciano finds a way to stand and walk within ten minutes and ends up seeing Ludwig murder someone?

“Uh wait. How much is it? Do I have to do this now?”

Normally, Ludwig would be asked to take down the victim at night. In case police found the hitman or a different force of law.

“I can answer both questions with this; how quick can you get it done?”

Well, that certainly does answer Ludwig’s question. Still, Ludwig feels something is wrong. Highly wrong. Though, not like he can talk. It’s the money that does.

“Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll call you when it’s finished.”

The call ends, with the possibly Russian hanging the cell. Ludwig then remembers something, he forgot his weapon! Or, better known his bag of: guns, daggers, poison sachets, gas bombs, along with a multitude of other murderous weapons of destruction.

Ludwig runs a hand over his face in exasperation at himself, beginning the short trek back to his home with Feliciano.

Getting back to their house, Ludwig peeks in the window, since neither of them close the curtains. There is Feliciano, obviously asleep on the more or less run-down couch that Ludwig got when he just turned fifteen. He’s twenty-five now.

Ludwig smiles to himself, momentarily forgetting about the client he is being paid to ruthlessly slaughter. Ludwig slides the key into its lock, turning it to the right since the left side no longer works.

The moment Ludwig opens the door, Feliciano flies up, his eyes still half closed. 

“Hi...You’re home early.”

Feliciano sleepily grins, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Ludwig walks over to the couch where Feliciano is sitting. Even though Feliciano is partially paralyzed, he can get better. Ludwig assures him and himself. It’s been about two years since he got hit by that truck. Slowly, he’s regaining the ability to walk.

“Yeah, I’ve got to go back though. Pretty much now, though I might be back soon.”

Feliciano nods his head, his eyes starting to close again. Guilt racks Ludwig, he wants to be honest. Sadly, all he can do is lie. 

“Mmkay… I’ll see you later, Lud-”

Feliciano’s head rests on Ludwig’s shoulder, asleep before finishing his sentence. Ludwig finished it in his head.  
Ludwig smiles affectionately at the Italian. Seeing the calm breathing of Feliciano makes Ludwig promise himself something. After this, he will get a real job, to become an honest man.

Ludwig gently shimmys his way from Feliciano’s head. He stands up, now determined. 

This is the last contract he’s going to do. He’s hell bent to complete it.

\--------------------------  
Please, Don’t Leave Me.  
\--------------------------

Lovino will never say this but he's worried. Well, paralyzingly worried. Antonio’s been missing for two weeks. Ever since he went job hunting, Antonio hasn’t come back. Lovino isn’t sure he’s even coming back. Some people say Antonio ran away with some girl. Lovino knows for a fact that isn’t true. Antonio says he loves him. Right?

Lovino tries to tell himself Antonio will be back soon. Who is he kidding though? Lovino isn’t sure Antonio wants to come back at all.

A handwritten letter lies on the table, the address being to Antonio. Lovino knows he shouldn’t read it. It’s none of his business. Lovino cannot help being curious. It might hold the answer to where Antonio is. Though Lovino is curious, he’s also loyal. Still, the letter lying on the counter is taunting Lovino. Very taunting.

“Catch me if you can~!”

“You idiot! I’ll get you stupid fool!”

“Love! Don’t be mean to me!”

Lovino replays the video on his phone for the millionth time. Antonio looks so happy in the moment captured in time two years ago. It was their first snow day together in America. In fact, the first snow Antonio has ever seen. 

Lovino pauses the video on Antonio’s face. He's smiling so brightly, his eyes closed because his smile is so bright. Lovino laughs alone, seeing the neon green poorly knit hat sitting on Antonio’s head. It took Lovino days to sew that damned thing. The hat hiked up on Antonio, making it look like he has a gnome head. Lovino laughs even more to himself, feeling almost bitter.

“I miss you…”

He hates this, showing weakness to himself. Anyone for that matter. Lovino doesn’t want to cry. He will not. Lovino looks over at the letter again, a new sense of bravery overcoming Lovino’s loyalty. Lovino carefully picks up the envelope. Carnation scented? That’s Antonio’s favorite flower. Lovino frowns, whoever sent this letter knows Antonio well. Lovino opens the letter with precise delicacy.

Dear Antonio:

I know things are so very tough for you at the moment. That man will not be able to control you any longer. Just hold out for a few more days. You’ll be safe soon, we promise.   
Signed with Love, The NPD. 

Lovino stayed silent, reading the letter repeatedly over and over again. What man? Who is controlling Antonio?

A soft knock at the door startles Lovino, he startles extremely easily. Even more so after Antonio’s disappearance. The knock sounds so pathetic, almost like the wind. Though, it’s loud enough to convince Lovino to check the door. Just in case.

Lovino rises to his tip-toes to see out the peep-hole. He gasps. By the gods. There stands Antonio… Lovino flings open the door, a million reprimands nearly flying off his tongue. The verbal mameing stops before it even starts. 

Antonio looks like a wreck. A literal wreck. His hair is a tangled mess, matts in every lock of hair. His clothes ripped in places they shouldn’t be. His shirt, unbuttoned a few too many buttons down. The thing most horrifying is Antonio’s face. Long streaks of tears down his face are still there from him crying moments ago. His eyes so lost...Completely void of the happiness Lovino saw just a minute ago on that video.

“Oh my god… What- Where were you?!”

Antonio sniffs, wiping a tear from his face. Lovino wants of all things to see Antonio. Yet, never in his wildest dreams would he ever want to see Antonio in such a state. It is breaking Lovino into pieces just seeing him.

“I don’t know?”

Lovino nearly shoves Antonio inside their house. Lovino is beyond conflicted, he’s angry, beyond furious. Sad, extremely happy, and just overly confused.

“Antonio...Just go to bed. You need sleep. A lot of it. I’m not asking.”

Antonio goes silent, a shadow still practically over his usually bright green eyes so full of life. Antonio looks over to Lovino, he looks so empty. It’s physically hurting Lovino.

“No. I’m staying with you. I’m not losing you again.”

That’s what breaks Lovino. In a flash, he runs at Antonio, giving him quite possibly the biggest and strongest hug Antonio will ever receive. Lovino doesn’t know what happened to Antonio when he was gone. Lovino is scared to ask.

After a mere second of shock, Antonio returns the hug not near as strong as Lovino’s. It feels like a porcelain doll, like Antonio can fall away from Lovino and shatter at any given moment. Lovino is so used to Antonio’s comforting strong hugs that it’s so scary to be the arms holding Antonio this time. 

“I’ve missed you so much. You know that right? Stupid Antonio… Don’t leave me again. Please.”

The paper light grip on Lovino tightens, if only a bit. It’s still reassuring. To know that Antonio is right there and isn’t leaving makes Lovino feel so much better.

“Love? I’ve missed you so much too.”

Lovino swallows a lump in his throat, he’s going back on his early oath. He said he wouldn’t cry. Now he is. Sobbing bullets. Antonio tries to squirm away to make sure Lovino’s okay, in retaliation, Lovino holds Antonio somehow tighter, still boo-hooing. 

“Don’t- Ever! Ever! Leave me again!”

Lovino pulls himself together to mumble those words into Antonio’s shoulder.  
“Never.”

\---------------  
Love is Blind  
\---------------

If working as a script writer for a faux movie is the worst job to cheat on your fiance. Whoever would say that is correct. Gilbert knows the last thing he should be doing is going behind his fiance’s back to date the new assistant at his job. Even if the new guy draws Gilbert in with a single glance.

Maybe Gilbert should leave the Austrian alone, he doesn’t even know his name. Not like that’s stopped Gilbert before.

“Sir? The lead signed the contract. He was given the first act script. We need act two.”

Gilbert looks over his shoulder to see the Austrian he was just thinking about. Even during the writing process he is always interrupted by thoughts of the rather elegant man.

“Uh, wait. Don’t call me Sir. It’s Gilbert.”

Gilbert instantly regrets saying what he just said. He’s engaged! He can’t be asking for other names! Especially very hot people’s names. Still, asking for a first name isn’t cheating. Yet.

“I’d rather not. Anyway, we need those papers, Sir.”

Gilbert didn’t miss the sassy edge for emphasis on ‘Sir’. That should be a sign to Gilbert he isn’t interested. Sadly those who play hard to get, intrigue Gilbert. 

“The papers can wait. I don’t even know your name.”

The other guy sighs, pushing his glasses that’s falling down back to the bridge of his nose.

“It’s Roderich. Now, the script?”

Gilbert is finding it hard to to function, he needs to calm down. He’s engaged to a wonderful person waiting at home for him. He can’t throw that all away. Still, hearing the mystery man’s name just increases Gilbert’s infatuation.

“So, are you foreign?”

What is he doing? Gilbert can’t believe the words coming from his mouth. Why is he trying to start a conversation? This is not right. Roderich gives Gilbert a scoff.

“Yes, I am. Austrian. I see you’re desperately begging for a talk so fine. I’ll humor you. You aren’t American are you?”

The more Roderich talks, the more enthralled Gilbert becomes. There's something so mysterious about him. Hearing him speak an actual sentence and asking a question continues to further draw Gilbert in.

“I uh- uhm- Yeah, I’m Prussian… Well- My grand-parents were born there. I was uh- born in Germany.”

How a single person brings Gilbert to a blushing, stuttering mess amazes him. Roderich laughs, not a condescending one either, a true laugh. Thus making the situation worse for Gilbert.

“Prussian, Really? I haven’t heard that name in a long time. Prussia is rather well known in Austria, you know.”

Gilbert just met Roderich, nearly eight minutes ago and he’s already falling for this stranger. After sharing only really three sentences with him. A wonderful idea pops in Gilbert’s head. Not wonderful for his fiance though.

“Clear your schedule.”

Gilbert cringes internally, there's no way he’s actually asking this guy out. They just met a moment ago! 

“And why should I?”

Gilbert’s head is spinning, he should not be doing this. Hopefully Roderich will turn him down. Still, Roderich looks interested in Gilbert's words.

“Uh- clear it because I’m taking you on the best date of your life. This uhm- weekend?”

He just did that. Roderich raises both his brows, a smirk on his face; completely worsening Gilbert’s blushing condition.

“Okay, you’re on. 8:00, the movies.”

Gilbert’s mouth drops, shockingly, Roderich says yes and actually plans the date himself.

“Yeah… 8:00. I’ll pick you up here on Saturday?”

Roderich nods, proceeding to laugh at Gilbert’s state of blushing.

“Mhm, I still need those papers, Gilbert.”

Gilbert shuts up, hearing Roderich say Gilbert’s name sounds so hypnotizing to him. Though, in the back of Gilbert’s head, he hears the laugh of his own fiance. Probably waiting at home, being so loyal despite Gilbert literally cheating on him at this moment.

Roderich walks away, swiftly ending the conversation between them. Gilbert happens to look at the clock, his shift just ended. He still does have to work on the script. Along with seeing his fiance.

Gilbert leaves the small business using a close building guise. A taxi is waiting right in front of the door, Gilbert climbs in, running to the car even though he dreads going home.

“Home, eh Gilbert?”

Gilbert nods his head, handing the taxi driver the five dollar payment.

“Yeah, you need the directions?”

The driver is new, Gilbert can tell immediately from the driver’s accent.

“Ah, het, старик сказал мне .” (Ah, no the old one told me)

Gilbert narrows his eyes, he can speak Russian easily, still. This is America, unless his old taxi driver told this new one Gilbert’s multilingual. 

“Сэр, как зовут моего старого водителя?” (Sir, what's the name of my old driver?)

The taxi driver stays silent, starting up the car instead, driving in eerily quiet.

“Это не имеет значения.” (Doesn't matter)

A sense of dread fills Gilbert, his old driver is a very big supporter of Marakesh. It makes no sense he would replace her. The taxi continues down the road, Gilbert holds his breath, seeing his own house. The new driver is telling the truth, he knows where Gilbert lives. The taxi stops exactly in front of his house.

“Вылезай из машины.” (Get out of the car)

The driver’s voice now has an odd, cold edge to it. Effectively getting Gilbert out of the car immediately. The second Gilbert takes a single step out of the car, it speeds away, nearly taking Gilbert with it. Even though Gilbert is now cheating on his fiance, he still goes running to his door, concerned over the suspicious attitude of the new chauffeur. 

“Gil, Hi, how was work?”

Hearing Matthew say the single sentence slams reality down on Gilbert. How can he do this? He already has a beautiful fiance who cares so much about him.

“It was...Interesting. I’m so glad to be home.”

\------------------------  
The Base of the Case  
\------------------------

“You two are serious? An entire industry of snuff films here in Hollywood? And you’re telling me these films belong to a series of cults? And I’m also told you two believe Marakesh, a beloved film director in many families, is a cult leader behind all these snuff films?!”

The captain of police slams his hands down on the table, infuriated that his top two undercover detectives are using their skills as investigating a faux case. 

Berwald stays silent, the captain does have a point, thus making the five years of working to bring this down a hilarious failure. Tino, however…

“Sir! Please, not to be rude but, we have substantial evidence that proves Marakesh Kuzmich is behind all these snuff films. All we need is a search warrant to see the building.”

Both Tino and Berwarld met seven years ago both as officers that just joined the force. Five years ago, they both gained the title of investigator. That’s when they uncovered the forgotten case of a now deceased Corporal. 

“I don’t want to hear it, Officer Tino! You and Officer Berwald have wasted your skills on a case that belonged to a very delusional Corporal who didn’t deserve that title. I am sick of your excuses. You are not getting a warrant. Do you understand me?”

Tino sits back down, huffing a quiet sigh. Berwald looks Tino over, worried. This case is their pride and joy.

“But… Sir, there's so much we can do. All we need is a single warrant-”

Berwald knows the best thing he can do at the moment is stay quiet. Tino is obviously upset, standing up from his seat in barely veiled fury.

“Enough! Officer Tino I do not want to hear a single excuse from you! I’m sick and tired of you trying to ‘get in the books’ well you’re not! The next time I hear it, you’re fired!”

The Captain now is standing up, his usual calm complexion turned on its head. To a tomato. Berwald sincerely hopes the words from the Captain calmed down Tino, Berwarld looks over to him to see that’s not the case. Tino opens his mouth, getting ready to get both of them fired. Berwald grabs Tino’s hand, squeezing it once. Tino looks at Berwald, sighing, then sitting down, a hand squeeze in retaliation.

“Yes, Sir.”

The Captain runs a hand over his face, irritated or just plain tired. Berwald knows how defeated Tino must feel, he feels defeated himself even though he did not speak a word. They’ve been denied access to the one last detail they need to finally have all the evidence they need.

“Listen, I had no clue you two have been using your position as senior inspectors to investigate a ridiculous case that has no sound proof whatsoever. This is an order. Do not ever go into this case again. You’re dismissed, officers.”

Berwald stands up immediately, one of his hands balled into a fist. There's nothing either of them can do now. It’s suspicious how the Captain decides to act once he hears the case that Berwald and Tino worked on. It’s like he knows something. Berwald opens the police office door, Tino walking out followed by Berwald.

“He knows something, Ber. I know it! You can tell by how he acted when he heard the case we’ve been working on.”

Tino speaks up the second Berwald closes the door, cutting it close for the Captain to hear. Still, Tino has a point Berwald thought only a second ago..

“Mhm, I’m glad we decided not to show 'em the real evidence. But, we can’t continue this anymore.”

Tino gapes at Berwald like he has five heads, as if Tino could ever think of betraying the Captain. Not like Berwald can put it past him.

“Of course we can! We’re still undercover Ber. We are so close! Five whole years we’ve worked on this! We can’t throw that all away!”

As always, Tino has a point. Never would Berwald ever think about going against direct orders from the Captain by himself. Though, he isn’t. 

“Tino… Think about it, we ain’t got a search warrant. Doin’ the search illegally will get us fired.”

Tino purses his lips, that action alone causes Berwald to worry; that’s Tino’s thinking face. The outcome of his thoughts usually leads to some insane catastrophe that somehow always succeeds.

“No, we don’t have to say we have a warrant. We can just try the officer tactic. Remember they’ve got some new workers. And! There’s the new lead actor in Marakesh’s snuff film. If we find him before anyone else does, we’ll win!”

The idea is actually very smart, dangerous, yes. Both Berwald and Tino are willing to do anything to expose this part of the film industry for what it really is.

“Hm. So we gonna find that actor and save em’ before he gets hurt?”

Tino nods, a happy smile on his face despite the thought of being fired. Berwald smiles back, albeit a small one. It makes him so happy he can see Tino happy. After so many long and hard all-nighters, seeing Tino smile even after only four hours of sleep is such a beautiful thing to see joy on his face.

“Uh-huh! I’ll call it, Operation America!”

Berwald knows he isn’t supposed to show affection towards his ‘wife’. Sometimes, he can’t help it. Berwald takes a step forwards, placing a hand on the back of Tino’s neck to pull him in for a soft kiss. Something very safe for work. After a possible three seconds, Berwald backs away, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder from Tino. Who pulls Berwald back in for a kiss, a bit more unsafe for work. The kiss only lasts for a decent thirty seconds.

“It’s nice to see ya smile.”

Berwald holds back a laugh, seeing the bright red spread all over Tino’s face. Not like he can boast either, he’s a tomato.

“You’re still a shy kisser!”

Now it’s Berwald’s turn to be caught off-guard by Toni’s romantic yet risque words.

“We’re at work, y’know.”

That’s Berwald’s excuse for anything surrounding romance. Tino is the first person Berwald even feels anything romantic for. Since Tino is the first person Berwald ever felt love for, he proposed two years ago; the day they uncovered the name for the snuff film director. The puppet master pulling the strings.

“Of course, not like we’re married! That’s what couples do, kiss!”

Tino sighs, a laugh from himself interrupting his own sentence. “Anyway, we now have an undercover case from the public. Along with an undercover case from the department. The Captain will thank us after we finish Operation America!”

Berwald ignores the first comment, refusing to accept his own matrimony. Paired with the fact Berwald does not know a thing about love. Besides, they have a case to solve.

\--------------------------  
Escaping Fake Paradise  
\--------------------------

Most people have no clue what happens behind closed doors. Usually simple conversation, sometimes things people do in private, or, the most thought of, murder. It’s hard to tell which one is true, even with an ear to the door, it can be impossible to tell. Thus, sometimes, one needs to be inside the room to see the truth. The ugly truth.

Never in Toris’s life would he expect to be the one inside that room. The only thing he’s grown to know is an iron cage. After being hired as an actor for a, as he was told then; a Hollywood level budget film under PeachTree Studio. During the filming process, Toris found out about things he shouldn’t have seen yet. Upon discovering that, the director of the whole studio fires Toris from the movie. The next day, Toris wakes up in an abandoned warehouse. From Toris’s guess, he’s been missing for a good year.

Along with Toris, there’s twelve other ex-actors in the same position as he is. The longer Toris lives at the warehouse, the more he finds out how beyond sick the hell hole is. The better someone ‘behaves’ the higher chance they get to witness the ‘viewing’. Out of fear or acceptance, Toris acts how he always does, reserved, quiet, and kind. Like nearly everyone else at the concentration camp. After a year of barely escaping a murder, Toris finally is picked to view whatever he is supposed to. All the people that have been invited for the ‘viewing’ never come back.

“You shouldn’t go do this. It’s dangerous to go.”

Adrian, the only friend Toris has made at the camp. There’s only seventeen people left in the facility. It’s terrifying, there used to be one-hundred people in the camp. The others have all died.

“There’s nothing I can do. If I don’t go willingly, I’ll be dragged there by force. You know that.”

Toris looks down at the bright red envelope, the invitation in black ink cursive letters, handwritten. Toris has a feeling he will not come back after this. Just like the former actors.

“Still. We don’t know for sure if the others were killed. There’s a possibility that they got away.”

That’s easily a lie. How can they? People who have tried to escape have their heads sliced then placed on metal stakes. The place is armed to the teeth with hundreds of guards who are trained to murder. It’s scary wishful thinking that Toris doesn’t want to involve himself in.

“There really isn’t an escape route. Everyone who’s tried to leave has died. It’s terrifying…”

Toris wishes to see his boyfriend one last time, Feliks. Toris knows that he never will. It breaks his heart; the thought of dying without saying goodbye hurts more than death itself. There’s so much he wants to say, sadly, Toris is convinced that he will never speak those words.

“Maybe- Maybe you can. Just… Try to stay positive, God will save you.”

Toris offers a weak smile, he doesn’t really have a belief in spirituality. Still, he’ll accept any prayers given. Maybe if a divine intervention happens, then it would restore his faith.

“Thanks… I hope so, really. That’d be great.”

Adrian pats Toris on the back, a grim expression on his usually positive face. This exact facial expression terrifies Toris. He’s never seen something like that before. It’s like a face people get when they receive a premonition. Something so dark. It sends a cold chill down Toris’s spine.

“Toris. We’re prepared for you now. The viewing is ready.”

A figure garbed in a black long robe strolls into the room, a dark veil over the persons’ eyes. Now, Toris is shivering. His breaths are coming out in quick huffs of air. Everything is starting to blur. Bile rises in his throat, a strong stomach ache coming on in the span of the few seconds the person walks in and speaks. Toris has no idea why all this is happening at once. A cold sweat breaks out on his forehead, his whole body breaking out in cold fevers.

“Y-yes…”

Things start to go black for Toris, his eyes start to close multiple times. The hooded figure grins, a flash of yellow teeth shine from underneath the veil. The yellow reminds Toris of Feliks, with his bright blonde hair.

“Sir… It’s time to awaken.”

Toris jolts up, breaking out in another cold sweat. There’s a plush velvet carpet Toris is lying on. Much different from the hard concrete Toris stood on what he thought only a minute ago. Toris’s head is spinning, as if he’s separating from reality.

“What? What are you...Talking about?”

The same figure from earlier now is clothed in full white robes, wearing a hood over their eyes. Not even a slit for the eyes yet the person still can walk around without any falter.

“Now is your time. The awakening. The shadows of hell shall spread themselves wide for you!”

Toris gets the same chill down his spine, now there’s a new emotion, terror. Toris is not religious, yet he’s feeling a fear for what can happen. He wants to run as fast as he can from here. He tries to move. He can’t. He feels numb, maybe a drug in the air?

“No…”

The ominous clothed one laughs; not a happy, carefree laugh, a sick twisted one. Something a person will hear from a convicted criminal being sent to death; a killer sent to the electric chair that knows their upcoming demise.

“Oh yes. The demons love every piece of the innocent. Sadly, you became tainted before you were primed. Now you need to be purified again.”

The terror in Toris builds, trepidation rising. Reality itself feels like it’s unwinding. As if the threads of time are slowing. Toris keeps hoping this is all a dream. A terrible, nightmarish dream.

“A simple injection will change it all… Don’t fear, child of impurity.”

The same figure takes a step to Toris, the person pulls out a syringe, a long needle filled with a suspicious blue liquid. Toris screams, a guttural cry. Tears stream down his face, he’s shaking in large tremors. As if life is moving in slow-motion.

“You soon shall view the Spawn.”

The person grabs Toris’s arm, injecting the lengthy needle into his brachial artery. Toris numbly looks to his arm, seeing bright blue surge through his veins. His eyes close again, Toris welcomes the darkness.

“Welcome back.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodnessssssssss I'm so surprised some people actually like this! It literally is so awesome to recieve ANY love for this so thank youuuuu <3 WARNING: There are some upsetting elements in this that will be touched on and brought up a bunch during the rest of this fic! ALSO: I'd like to apologize for any mistranslations in this! I am learning the languages in this fic so it won't be perfect xc Anyway, enjoy guys! :) Alsooooo! I wrote this on Google Docs so I'm really sorry if the format looks weird.

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* * *

A New Enemy

Chapter Two

* * *

Arthur sits down on the cafe chair, an even deeper frown on his usual angry expression. With an exception, Arthur isn’t upset, he’s extremely guilty. What Alfred said really stuck with him, does he really ridicule? That’s not something Arthur intends to do. Usually. 

“Here’s your Kenyan black tea. Let me know if you need anything.”

The waitress places a delicate tea cup down on the felt tablecloth over the cafe table. He nods his head in thanks, picking up the cup by its handle. Arthur takes a sip of the tea, sighing, it’s so calming to him to have the strong drink. 

“Well, well. If it isn’t IggyIggy Annoyance. All along on this cold summer’s morning?”

Arthur growls, setting the cup in his hand down as to not fling it at the true annoyance hounding him. Francis.

“That’s ironic, isn’t it? I’m the annoying one? I can’t just enjoy myself for a single minute of alone time?!”

Francis proceeds to pull up a chair, much to Artur’s dismay.

“Please! You’ve had enough time to yourself for one day. This time you’ve gotten three minutes to yourself. That’s enough."

The more the French speaks, the more irritated that Arthur gets. If he was feeling down from his encounter with Alfred, all that is gone; to be replaced with rage. If he’s supposed to be happy with Francis for snapping him out of the thinking he’s doing. He’s not. Arthur sometimes does want time to think to himself. There’s times when Arthur wants just a single day to himself. Today, unfortunately, is not that day.

“Are you serious?!”

Francis laughs, taking a sip of Arthur’s cup. Great. Now it’s tained. More money out of Arthur’s wallet. He’s already losing funds, it won’t be long before he becomes completely broke.

“Of course! Ew! This tea is disgusting! You know, if you want to get away from reality. You should try my new wine at la établissement vinicole!” (The winery)

Arthur knows ever since Francis got his job as a barista at some ‘authentic’ French bar. Or as Francis orders everyone calls it. A winery. Of course, the thought of alcohol is enticing to Arthur.

“Yeah, right. No way. Those overpriced grapes aren’t worth it.”

Francis gasps, horrified at the words coming out of Arthur’s mouth. As if Arthur hadn't drank tons of said overpriced grapes a few days ago. 

“Blasphemy! I can’t believe you! You have any clue how absolutely delicious wine is!? You just have underdeveloped taste buds. That’s it! You poor thing!” 

Here comes the insult train. Francis and Arthur have these rather unplayful banters all the time. First, it starts as a simple half argument. Then, escalates to raised voices yelling. Then finally, the insults. Like a divorcing couple. Hearing Francis insult Arthur’s taste always strikes a dangerously large chord. It drives him insane.

“Me?! I’m the one that has the terrible taste buds? Yet you eat cows’ tongue!”

Francis twitches his eyes, similarly to Arthur’s. Both of them nearing an aneurysm simultaneously. A usual occurrence for the British and French.

“I’ll have you know, that is beyond tasty! If you’ve tried it before you would know! But you haven’t! Also, it’s called langue de boeuf you philistine!” 

At that, today Arthur’s is having enough. He’s done with everything going down today. He’s finished. Totally finished.

“Alfred Freedom Jones. This’ll be the last time…”

Arthur jumps, turning around to catch a glimpse of a burly, tall man walking past him, carrying a suspicious looking bag in his arm. Maybe having a few nights with little sleep has taken a toll on his sanity. Arthur stands up abruptly, making Francis jump, not like Arthur notices. 

“Bonjour? You okay?” 

Arthur waves his hand behind him, not really catching what Francis said. All his focus is on the man that just said Alfred’s name. The man is walking briskly, shoving himself throughout the corral of people. Arthur knows how to tail someone. Well, that may be an exaggeration; though, now is not the time to doubt himself.

Following the man to a nice looking restaurant. Arthur sees a specific person seated at the furthest table to the back. It’s hard to tell exactly who it is. With the person’s head down in their arms on the table. Arthur knows, the wheat blonde hair is a telltale sign. Along with that stupid brown bomber jacket. Arthur takes a step into a shaded area so he can watch the stranger.

“Excuse me, I’m a photographer for PeachTree Studio. I need you back at the studio so I can get pictures.”

Arthur studies the person’s bag. He was a former photographer, the stranger’s bag is too small to hold a high level camera. There’s no way a ‘huge budget Hollywood’ studio would use a camera anything less than the best.

The second Alfred sits up, a piece of Arthur’s heart breaks. Truly breaks. His glasses are still gone, his eyes are puffy and red. There’s a long streak of tears still running down his face. Seeing that alone makes Arthur want to cry himself.

“Oh- sorry… I- uh- okay.”

Instead of showing sympathy or giving Alfred any time to actually pull himself, the incomer says nothing. The person’s exterior is oddly cold. Almost distant, like how someone acts before commiting a crime. A sense of dread fills Arthur. 

“Thank you. Follow me.”

The second Alfred stands up to follow the man, he stands back so Alfred can walk in front. The suspicion is climbing, it’s nerve-wracking for Arthur. Arthur trails behind them, leaning into the shadows to not be seen.

While walking, the man turns Alfred down a dark alleyway. Red alarms blare in Arthur’s head, Alfred tries to turn around for a second to see behind him. He can’t. Arthur continues to follow behind them, taking a step closer and closer to get to Alfred.

“So- uh… Where is-”

Out of the blue, the stranger pulls out a rag. Arthur’s eyes widens, everything starts to move in slow motion. The man tries to place it over Alfred’s mouth, Arthur runs to Alfred then stops, mid-run. What can he do in the first place? Should he think this through? Call the police? Or handle this himself?

A muffled cry drawls Arthur from his rather intense thoughts. A theme of the day. Alfred is by no means a weak person. Yet, this stranger is overpowering him in a chokehold, shoving the strange cloth in his face. That decides Arthur’s move. A very, very radical one.

“Alfred!”

That certainly got the attention of the two men. The tall blondes' eyes grow in a saucer size, he backs up, dropping a barely conscious Alfred to the floor. Immediately, he goes racing in another direction; where of which didn’t really matter to Arthur since he has a much more pressing matter to attend to.

“Bloody hell... Alfred, are you okay?!”

The more important person, Alfred, gave an odd mix between a yell, cry, and some form of yes. All of the above together didn’t sound reassuring to Arthur; at all. 

"Merde?! Arthur, Alfred?!” (shit)

Arthur heaves a sigh, this day can not get worse. He can’t and won’t believe it can. 

“Francis...Please, I do not need your bloody help right now!”

Francis takes that as some sign to get closer, driving Arthur closer to his foreseeable snap.

“Listen, mon cher, you do need my help, seeing as… Whatever happened here is a very… Large mess you’ve found yourself-” (my friend)

“I said, leave me alone, Francis!”

Arthur interrupts Francis, again not wanting to deal with him. He has enough going on already. He doesn’t need this fool ruining this any further.

Alfred starts pulling himself together between the two aforementioned fighting, not like Arthur can see him, he’s in a world of his own rage. He rubs the bridge of his nose, grimacing when he finds no source of his glasses. Thus, deeming him nearly blind.

“Arthur… Francis? Is that you two?”

Hearing Alfred speak, let alone a whole sentence; drives the previous anger out of Arthur in a wisp. He turns away from the also furious Francis to see Alfred sitting up, squinting his eyes though he looks to be okay.

“Oh thank god! You’re okay!”

Today, especially considering all the hell that has gone down today, Arthur does something almost uncharacteristically, he scoops Alfred up in a quite crushing hug.

All this leaves one question: who is that man?

  
  


* * *

Escalation

* * *

  


Feliciano sighs peacefully, after having had a nice dream. He pushes himself up to sit, a small frown appearing on his face when he notices the time. 8:38pm. He’s a lot later then he usually is. Feliciano thinks to himself. Ludwig usually arrives home around 5 o’clock on the dot. He’s very punctual. Unusually so, like one of the cute ticks the German has.

The phone starts ringing, or Feliciano's phone begins to ring. Unfortunately, the phone is set up on a counter, where he can’t reach without… Walking. Even thinking about the action deepens Felciano’s frown. Ever since the incident of when he got hit, he’s had temporary paralysis. Sometimes, he can walk without falling over after a half foot. Still, he can; even on his best days, walk about twelve feet before his legs seize up again. 

Today, is one of his worst days, where he can’t even take a step by himself.

The phone persists to ring, the ringtone being his brother’s. That gets Feliciano to grab his crutches, which thankfully are where he can reach this time. Since he’s so forgetful he tends to leave them all around the house; scaring poor Ludwig half to death when he goes tumbling down to try finding them.

“Ciao, fratello!” (Hello, brother!)

Feliciano gives his cheery greeting, he hasn’t been able to talk with Lovino recently ever since the disappearance of Antonio.

“Feli! How are you?-”

“Give me that back, idiot!”

“Heyyy! Love! I wanna talk to Feli too!”

“Whaaat!? Why?! Stupid fool!”

“Stoooop!”

The arguing brings a big smile to Felicinao’s face. Lovino hasn’t been himself ever since Antonio left. He didn’t really talk much anymore, he didn’t even curse at anyone during that time. It makes him so happy that everything is going back to normal.

“Ciao, Antonio! How are you?”

Feliciano hears a struggle on the other end, a battle for the phone presumably.

“Awh- Love hey! It’s been difficult and...Well different but I think it’s better now. How’s the legs?”

Lovino must have stopped fighting Antonio because when he talked about his situation, there was silence. The fighting kicked back up when Antonio mentioned Feliciano’s injury. It didn’t bother him when people brought it up. It made him happy to know people care. Not like he has to be told that though.

“Ah, well, they could be a bit better but overall I think they’re doing fine.”

Just for added effect, he moves his legs up and down, now sitting back on the couch. Of course, nobody can see him, not like Feliciano cares.

“Give me that! It’s my phone! Vaffanculo you figlio di puttana!” (go fuck yourself, son of a bitch!)

A loud gasp follows Lovino’s slew of curses.

“¡Dios mio! Love! That’s so harsh! Don’t you love me!?” (my god!)

Yet another shuffle on the phone. Feliciano finds himself laughing at the situation, just how wonderful it is. Not Lovino spitting non-threatening curses at Antonio, no, just how familiar the conversation is. It was such a regular occurrence for them. Unlike how it’s been for a long time, a time of despair and sadness all around. Feliciano hates it. He hates when everyone would be upset. He misses the happy times everyone had with each other.

“Of- of course I do, idiot! I wouldn’t let you live here otherwise!”

A laugh is heard on the line, probably Antonio, another shuffle, then the phone call ends. Feliciano has an idea why.

He takes another look at the clock, 9:12pm. Feliciano gasps, unlocking his phone to call Ludwig. His finger is hovering over the dial button. Should he do it? What if Ludwig is really busy right now and doesn’t need any distractions? What if he doesn’t have his phone on him at all? What if…

A key turning in the door abruptly halts Feliciano’s thinking. The door flies open, a dishevelled Ludwig pants in the door.

“Lud…? You okay? You look upset?”

Ludwig looks up, heaving a loud huff of air. Feliciano frowns, why does he look so out of breath? Like he just ran a marathon?

“Ah, nothing really. Just… I realized it was late, so I came here as quickly as I could.”

Something seems off about Ludwig’s explanation, Feliciano can’t really place what. Just, he seems off. Like the wide eyed expression, or the shuffling of a small duffle bag to hide from his view. Of course, Felciano won’t press. At least, not now anyway.

“You won’t believe this but, fratello found Antonio! He just called me a minute ago and they were arguing so I couldn’t find anything out but he’s back!”

Ludwig’s eyes widen, as if Feliciano said something insane. His eyes weren’t wide from happiness either, more just shock. Almost… Horrified shock.

“Warten was?” (Wait what?)

Feliciano’s frown deepens, Ludwig slipped into German again; something that happens only when he’s really surprised. Not in the best way either.

“Lud? What happened today? Something’s wrong, right”

Ludwig shakes his head, offering a smile that seems almost fake to Feliciano. Not really like Feliciano knows what a fake smile is. It just doesn’t seem right.

“Nothing, not really. Just a long day at the stand, that’s all.”

Ludwig takes a seat next to Feliciano, looking off as if he’s in another world. That worries him, he doesn’t usually see that far away look in Ludwigs’ eyes.

“Oh- okay… If you’re sure but, if you want to tell me anything, I’m always right here!”

Felciano smiles, looking right at Ludwig which brings him out from his sort of trance. Feliciano notices Ludwig looks aggrieved, as if thinking something over. 

“Have you seen Gilbert recently?”

That takes Feliciano aback, hearing Ludwig change the subject, maybe it’s something sensitive so he doesn’t want to talk about it? Though they live together?

“Uh… Yeah? He just got engaged to Alfred- wait no- Matthew recently, remember? We went to their engagement party?”

Feliciano is confused, the confusion grows even more when Ludwig gives Feliciano an incredulous look.

“What? Who… Who?”

Feliciano is really, really confused. Ludwig is acting like he doesn’t even know who Matthew is. He’s a really good friend of everyone. Of course, Alfred was there too, Feliciano just always gets the two confused. Feliciano places a hand on Ludwig’s forehead, feeling for any source of heat. Instead, he feels a cold sweat. That makes Feliciano pull his hand back fast, his eyes wide.

“Lud… You need to go to a doctor… Please. You’re ice cold and sweating.”

Ludwig grabs Feliciano’s shoulders, shaking them slightly. The act freaks Feliciano out, worried that something really. Really bad is going on.

“No… Who is Gilbert’s fiance?!”

The grip on his shoulders gets tighter, causing Feliciano to yelp out in pain. 

“L-L-Ludwig!”

Ludwig drops his shoulders, his mouth forming into a large ‘O’. He puts his face in his hands, shaking his head.

“Feli… I- I’m so sorry…”

Feliciano is scared, no, terrified.

  


* * *

  


Back to a Nightmare

* * *

  


“I knew you’d come back to me… Antonio. You will always come crawling back.”

A mouth in his ear, whispering the words like a chant. Antonio shivers, a chill sent up his spine at the deep raspy voice in his ear.

“N-no…”

A smirk, he can feel it. 

“Oh, yes. You need me. I, of course, need you.”

Teeth sink into his earlobe, causing a full-body tremor in Antonio’s body. He knows he needs to run. Run so far and so fast from this place. Yet, he can’t move his limbs, like they’re made of jello. Maybe melting jello, he can’t even breathe.

“P-please… Stop…”

The quiet pleas fall on deaf ears.

“Oh, you’re so funny, Antonio, you have nowhere to go.”

Tears start at Antonio’s waterline, running down his face in long streams down his face. The person, who Antonio can’t see, laughs. The person brings a hand up to his cheek, wiping away a tear.

“Antonio, wake up, cretino!” (idiot)

Antonio jumps up, his eyes flying open as his forehead slams squarely into the person in front of him.

“You bastardo!” (bastard)

Antonio rubs his head, blinking away the… Tears?

“L-Lovino?! Oh el dios I- sorry…” (god)

Lovino rubs his head, an annoyed expression on his face till he sees Antonio again. That silences him, at least, the spew of language.

“Are- are you apologizing for… Crying!?”

Antonio laughs at himself in a self-deprecating manner, he brings up a hand to wipe away a tear falling from his face. Only for Lovino to grab his wrists, pulling them down so Lovino can look Antonio in the eyes. 

“Mio amatissimo, per favore non piangere.” (My precious, please don’t cry)

Hearing Lovino say something so sweet, so caring, it made the situation worse for him crying.

“L-Lovino… T-Te amo no lo h-hagas dejar yo ir, por favor…” (I love you, don’t let me go, please)

Antonio pulls Lovino in a hug, possibly the seventeenth one since he last saw him. Antonio cries on Lovino’s shoulder, another thing he’s doing a lot of; crying.

“Sh… è va bene, Antonio.” (It’s okay)

Speaking in their languages adds a whole new sense of safety to Antonio, he just feels like everything is okay when he’s with Lovino, as if nothing bad in the world exists. In this moment, saying sweet nothings in Spanish and Italian it seems like there really is nothing bad in the world. Still, Antonio can’t shake those bad dreams he’s having. He knows he can’t stay away forever. Just like...He… Said.

“Love… I… I need to tell you something.”

Lovino continues holding Antonios’ wrists, nodding for him to go on, a small frown on his lips.

“I- I’ll need to go soon…”  
  


Lovinos’ eyes widen, the light reflects in the golden flecks in his eyes, making them almost shine. Ethereal-like. Antonio doesn’t know what to do at this moment. He doesn’t want to; leave. He doesn’t want to leave Lovino, that’s the last thing he wants to do. The two weeks he was there was a living nightmare in any sense of the word.

“Wha-what?! You… You tell me you don’t want to leave but… You’re leaving me? Again!?”

Every word takes a stab at Antonio’s heart. There isn’t much he can do. If he says no to what he agreed to, everything he knows will disappear. Gone from his grasp like sand between his fingers. He can’t lose everything, he won’t.

“Love-”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that!”

Lovino stands up, shoving Antonios’ hands down into his lap, he’s irritated, Antonio understands but… Why won’t he understand?

“Please! Please don’t- don’t go!”

Antonio reaches forwards, grabbing Lovino’s wrist. He looks conflicted, a frown on his face; yet looking into Antonios’ eyes with such emotion he can hardly take it.

“Oh? So… You can leave any time you want, huh? No consideration for me whatsoever-!”

Antonio shuts Lovino up with a heavy kiss to his lips, trying to make it somehow innocent; failing miserably. Lovino doesn’t try to shove Antonio off his chest, that alone nearly makes Antonio cry with happiness. He moves away a second to look into the endless brown pools that are Lovinos’ eyes.

“I’m not leaving you. Never, ever will I leave you. I’m just… Going away for a bit… I can’t. I can’t leave you. It would actually kill me…”

Lovino furrows his brow, his mouth agape slightly, as if he’s contemplating something. Whatever that is scares Antonio the most. Is he wanting to leave him? Break up with him? Doesn’t want to see his face ever again? Yes, they all amount to the same thing, Antonio losing Lovino.

“You… You-! Why! First you say you won’t leave me! Know you will leave me but apparently you aren’t actually leaving me, just ‘going away’ for god knows how long! Cazzo si, Antonio!” (fuck you)

Antonio’s heart shatters, ever further than it has before. Is this really happening? The one person Antonio loves with all his heart is going? Lovino puts a hand up in Antonio’s face to stop him from the rampant racing of his mind.

“But… I- I… I care so damn much about you, Antonio. I… I can’t lose you.”

Lovino averts his eyes, looking down; boring a hole into the floor. Antonio lifts Lovino’s chin, turning it up to look back at him.

“The-”

Antonio pauses to breathe, his voice shaky and fragile at the moment. He knows what he’s about to say is something so, so disturbing but… Lovino has to know. He needs to know why Antonio has to leave and stay at a ‘prison’. Inhaling again, Antonio steels himself.

“The reason why I’m leaving- going for a bit is… You remember when I went job hunting, right?”

Lovino nods slowly, unsure of where this is going. Antonio continues.

“Well, I found one where I met all the requirements. A job as stage crew at this film studio, PeachTree. I met the… Boss and I got the job the second he saw me.”

“Wait what? He just… Gives you the job? Without you even saying a word to that guy?”  
  
Antonio nods, a sick feeling brewing in his stomach, he feels like he’s going to throw up, getting ready for what he’s about to say.

“The next day everything was so… Dark. Literally, there were no lights on, no windows. Nothing. I remember walking around for a while, trying to find the door then just… Darkness. I found out later I got hit in the head with a baseball bat.”

Lovino straightens, an angry frown on his face, his brows furrowed even further, his narrowed eyes practically begging Antonio to continue his story. A very painful, true story. He breaths in another time, holding his own shaking hands.

“When I woke up… I was in a room. A b-bedroom. I saw the boss there, he looked different from the interview. Angrier? I don’t really remember. It all happened so fast. But, he grabbed me by… By the throat and he- he said… He said your name. Your actual name…”

Antonio knows his voice is quivering, shaking so violently, just like his hands. Lovino grabs Antonios’ hands, squeezing them in a comforting manner. Antonio’s breath hitches, he holds down a sob, preparing himself again to continue.

“I- I got so scared… He went on, saying so, so many people’s names. My parents, my grandparents, Every one of my friends and family. As if… As if he had some list. I remember, he looks at me and smiles, saying, ‘They’ll all’... ‘die if you’- ‘if you don’t obey’...” He- he did so many things… I-”

“Stop! Please! Please, stop, Antonio!”

Antonio didn’t know he started crying, tears running down his face again. Lovino had tears in his eyes too, his voice cracking towards the end of his cry. Lovino grabs Antonios’ shoulders, holding them so tight; Antonio isn’t sure he can even breathe. Yet, it’s so reassuring to him.

“I don’t care if that… Monster burns every house in America down! Don’t you dare go back there! I will not let you go back there!”

Antonio wraps his arms around Lovino’s waist, placing his head against Lovino’s chest. It’s a role reversal, usually Antonio is the one holding Lovino like this. It’s nice to be held too, of course.

“But I… I can’t el amor I- I can’t let anyone hurt you…” (love)

Lovino combs a hand through Antonio’s hair, it feels so… Serene.

“You idiot… Who’s going to protect you?”

  
  


* * *

Does He Love Me?

* * *

  


“So, how is your work going? I know you got a new assistant, right? Is he helping you out?”

Gilbert recently has been very, well, odd. Acting very finicky, avoiding almost every question Matthew asks about work. It’s quite strange, Gilbert is usually ecstatic to talk about his work, colleagues, his boss, every detail of every day. It’s such a nice thing to hear him ramble on about it, yet, things have been noticeably different. 

“Yeah, ahahaha, work’s been fine, I guess. Anyway, what’s up with Al? I didn’t see him at the scene today.”

That’s exactly Matthew’s point, Gilbert rarely ever brings up his brother, ever. Gilbert has a new found talent of finding subjects they haven’t talked about in a long time.

“Ah, well. He hasn’t really told me anything besides how excited he is. I know he really wanted that job. I’m glad he got it.”

Gilbert nods, apparently not really paying attention to what Matthew’s saying, another thing that’s quite odd. Usually, Gilbert likes talking to him, at least, that’s what Matthew hopes is true. Maybe his work is just being hard on him or something? 

“Uh-huh. That’s pretty neat-o. So, Mattie, you know this weekend?”

That brings Matthews’ hopes up, this weekend is Gilbert’s only weekend off for about another two months. Meaning it’s their date night. Which is always the highlight of Matthew’s week.

“Y-yeah! That’s the week you have off, right? It’s uhm… Movie night?”

Matthew takes note as Gilbert halts, mid-step into wherever he was walking. Gilberts’ eyes widen in shock, confusing Matthew quite a bit. What’s going on?

“M-m-movie night?! You- huh!?”

Matthew doesn’t really know what to do at this time, Gilbert never forgets their nights. He would always say how important they are to him. Maybe they aren’t anymore? Has Gilbert discovered someone knew? Is he about to say he’s done?

“O-oh haha… Silly me, I forgot. It’s next week, s-sorry Gil…”

The lie felt sour on Matthew’s tongue. Yet, seeing the horrified expression fall off Gilbert’s face made the aftertaste go away immediately, he looks so… Relieved? That Gilbert has another week away from him?

“Really? Oh wow- that’s awesome! I uh- I’ll have more time to prepare! For my- our date night! Ahahahah…”

Another thing, Gilbert never stutters, not often. Not this often. Something is really going on; Matthew has an idea what. Of course, this idea is something he doesn’t want to think about, maybe he just really did forget? Maybe he told his boss he’d work this weekend and didn’t want to hurt Matthews’ feelings? Again, Matthew can only hope that’s the truth.

Riiiiiiiiiiing! Ring ring! Riiiiiiiii-

“Hello? Oh! Roderich hey! Yeah, yeah, I’m getting the papers ready. They’re going to be awesome! Haha! Yes, I’ll see you at 8, Saturday! Tschüss!” (goodbye!)

Matthew purses his lips, a small action Gilbert probably won’t take notice of. Not like he’s taken notice of anything Matthew’s done recently. That has to be his new co-worker. Saturday? At 8? What does that mean? His shift ends a bit before that anyway…

“Gil… You- you like your new colleague?”

Matthew can’t help it, his voice breaks. If what he thinks is happening, is happening, he hopes it isn’t. Gilbert puts his phone in his pocket, his eyes locking with Matthew’s. Which definitely isn’t helping Matthew.

“Well… Yeah, we’re going out for a colleague meeting on Saturday. He uh- he doesn’t have a car so I’ll drive him.”

The second Gilbert finishes his sentence does he slap his face at his blunder. Matthew knows exactly where he messed up too, Gilbert doesn’t own a car. He’s been using the taxi system for years; Matthew always offers to drive him to work. Of course, Gilbert denies, saying; ‘I’ll walk before making you go somewhere so dangerous!’ At the time, that made Matthew happy, since it made him think Gilbert cares. Now, he’s thinking it was said for other reasons.

“Oh, okay… I hope you have fun, tomorrow.”

Matthew’s voice shrinks smaller and smaller, he knows it does. It always happens when he doesn’t know what to do. Especially when his heart is being smashed with a hammer.

America! America! God shed his grace on thee! And crown thy good with brother-

“Hey, Al? What’s-”

“You won’t believe this! I almost got murdered today! Well, Artie says it was some kidnapping scheme. I say; murder!”

Matthew pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing over the loud volume of his brother’s voice. Thankfully, Alfred always knows when to call, a great distraction for the moment at hand.

“Wait what? Murder? Why? Did you do something crazy?”

“Huh?! No! Of course not! I was just minding my own business after signing that contract and boom! I’m being murdered!”

That’s… Extremely disturbing. Alfred could just be exaggerating, though if Arthur was there then…

“What contract? Did you not read the full print or something?

“Pfft! Of course I did, Mattie! Give me some credit here! Yeah, Arthur is trying to hunt down the guy. I’m not letting him ‘course! Like, the dude pinned me down so imagine what could happen!”

Matthew looks at Gilbert to see he’s concerned, hearing only one side of the conversation, he imagines Gilbert isn’t expecting anything good. Which, the whole Alfred almost getting murdered or kidnapped whichever of the two is equally horrifying to think about.

“Mhm… That’s good you’re okay, maybe stay away from work for a bit? There could be something going on there? It is an expensive movie studio, after all.”

“Huuuuuuuh!? I can’t stay away! The world of acting is my life-blood! I can’t live without the drama! I need it, Mattie! I need it!”

Matthew smiles, glad to know despite whatever happened, hit brother is acting just as he normally would. Still, if what happened to Alfred has to do with that movie studio then, is Gilbert in any danger?

“What are you doing, you wanker!? You need sleep, not being on the phone! Go to damn sleep, Alfred!”

“But- Artie! I wanna tell Mattie about what happened!”

“I don’t care! Alfred you need your bloody sleep!”

“Le dieu you two. You sound like a vieil mariés couple!” (God, old married)

“Shut up Frenchy! We aren’t old!”

“Huh?! We aren’t a couple!”

“Allons bon! It seems there’s couple issues~!” (My dear!)

“Shut the hell up, Francis!”

Beeeep!

Matthew sighs, rubbing the frame of his glasses, as fun as it is to be around the trio; it’s very loud and taxing. 

“Hey, Gil? Maybe you shouldn’t go to work tomorrow? I think something really bad almost happened to Al…”

Gilbert takes a seat on the bed next to Matthew, a big smile on his face. That of which warms Matthew’s heart, maybe Gilbert does still care about him.

“Really? Okay, I won’t go to the office tomorrow, promise.”

That takes a heap of building worry off Matthew’s shoulders. At the same time, Gilbert puts an arm around his shoulders, pulling Matthew into his chest.

“Thank you…”

“Ich liebe dich, Birdie.” (I love you)

  
  


* * *

A Step Closer to Victory

* * *

  


“Noooooo! Norge! Let me kiss youuuu!”

“Get away, Idiot! We. Are. At. Work!”

“Mhm. Calm y’self, idiot.”

“Wha-! Stop bullying meee! Tino, help!”

Tino laughs, shuffling a stack of papers on his desk, or, the most important file of his and Berwald’s entire career. Mathias and Lukas ran the second Tino and Berwald brought up the idea of this case a good five years ago. Still, today is the day they get a slight interview with a victim and witness of all the things done by that awful ‘film studio’.

“Sorry, Mathias! But, we’ve gotta run, have fun! Be safe you guys! Really. I’m not kidding, Mathias.”

“What?! I’m always safe! Me and Norge are a walking condom- Ow!”

“Shut up! Idiot”

“Norgeeeeee!”

“Tino, the interview ‘s today, ain’t it?”

Tino nods, slinging the papers into a very thick black folder. Hundreds and hundreds of evidence against that man. Of course, there’s now the issue that what they’re doing is illegal since the chief now bans the continuation of the case. 

“Yes! This is it! One of the most important days of our lives! This might go down in the books as one of the greatest heists ever! Well, okay. Maybe not heists just… Uh…”

“Breakin’ the rules?”

Tino gives Berwald a pout, he wouldn’t call it that. They just found out it’s not ‘approved’ at the moment. Though, once they show the chief all their hard work, he’s sure to change his mind!

“Berwald! We can’t call it that! It’s just our job as officers to do this! Otherwise, it’s an obstruction of justice!”

“Mhm… If ya say so.”

Tino sighs half-heartedly, laughing besides himself. He knows this interview isn’t actually going down in the books since it can’t even be recorded in the first place.

Presently, since if it was, their badges would most certainly be revoked.

“Okay… We- we can do this. Can’t we?”  
  


Tino looks up at Berwald who, in turn, is offering an upwards tilt of half his mouth. Which is a very reassuring act to Tino.

Taking in inhale, he opens the door to the office.

“What! You… Cazzo, Antonio! I can’t believe we’re here! You better get a lawyer-” (fuck)

“¡El amor! I brought you here because I need you! Plus, we’re broke! I can’t afford a lawyer! That’s not even- I’m not a criminal, Love!” (Love!)

Tino and Berwald pass a glance between each other, this is going to be much harder than he thought. Tino takes a seat directly from Antonio. Berwald stands by at the door, leaning against it so someone can’t open it.

“Hei- Hello, I’m Officer Tino and this is Officer Berwald,-” (Hi)

“Wait wait wait. So, you people want to interview Antonio for what reason exactly?”

Tino holds back a frown, he was just getting to the reason why they were here. Still, he understands, this is a complicated situation.

“Love… Listen, with my testimony, these officers might be able to find that guy and shut down his business. Por favor, hermoso?” (Please, beautiful)

Tino notices that Antonio takes whoever the brunette’s names’ hand. It’s a sweet detail that paints a small picture in Tino’s mind. This must be the guy Antonio spoke about on the phone.

“Bene…” (Okay)

“Okay, sorry. What were you saying, Officer?”

Tino smiles, adjusting himself in his seat, he pulls out a sheet of paper, a mugshot of Marrakesh Kuzmich. Antonio looks at the page then frowns, scooting back in his seat; his eyes averted to the floor.

“This. This is the man, Marrakesh Kuzmich. We have many, many tons of evidence against this person. All we really need are testimonies. Yours especially will be so crucial and important to this case. You don’t have to speak if you don’t want to.”

The brunette grabs Antonio’s hand, a frown deep on his face. Antonio looks back up at Tino, a determined expression on his face. He nods.

“No, I’ll speak. He needs to go to jail so he won’t be able to do this to anyone else.”

Tino turns his head to look at Berwald who nods, turning on the recorder.

“I, I was job hunting. I really wasn’t able to find a job since I immigrated here from Spain for a better life. It was legal, obviously, but nobody wanted a foreigner. Until, I got an email surrounding how this movie studio wanted me as a part of their stage crew for this upcoming movie. I… I was so excited. Since, we- we really don’t have a ton of money. Actually, not enough to even pass by. I took the job immediately. Even if it sounded weird.”

Antonio takes a moment to gain his breath, Tino lets him, knowing that whatever he has to say is something very, very horrifying.

“I met… Him. At his office, that was one of the only times I got a good look at his face. Which I only saw for about a moment. The second he saw me, he said I was hired. I thought it was weird but I really didn’t care. That was the first job I’d gotten here in America… The next day was when I started working there, except, everything was dark. I know the door locked behind me but… I couldn’t see a thing. It was pitch black. I tried to find the door, I think I found the handle but…-”

Antonio gestures to the back of his head, motioning like he got hit. Tino widens his eyes, this story is just getting worse…

“When… Once I finally like- woke up, I was in a… A bedroom. And… And… He was there. I remember so vividly, that I had been offered a position as stage crew. Instead I think… It was more sl-slave.”

Tino puts a hand over his mouth, hearing this first-hand directly from the victim is heartbreaking. It’s enough to destroy someone’s heart in one fell swoop. Tino takes a glance at the other brunette who is bristling in...Anger?

“He- he would hit me if I did the wrong thing… If I struggled too much or- or- made the wrong… Sound. For seven days in a row he- he raped me.”

The brunette stood up for a second, a horrified expression on his face mirroring the one behind Tino’s hand. Berwald steps aside to let the guy out, everyone heard a sob as he probably went to the bathroom.

“O-okay. You can stop now. That’s enough, thank you, Antonio. But, I have a question, how were you able to contact us? If you were… held captive, how did you call us?”

Antonio sits up, averting his eyes from where the brunette ran out the door only a second ago, he takes a deep breath.

“Well… He left for about three days. A secretary I think came in and uncuffed me. She gave me her cell phone, dialing some number and telling me it’s the police. That number was yours. After that, she cuffed me back up and left. Almost twenty minutes after that did he come back to… Continue what he began. He let me go about three days ago, I’m still so scared as to why.”

Berwald puts a hand on Tino’s chair, a deep frown on his face. A similar one on Tino’s. Marrakesh let Antonio go? Why? He’s got to be planning something.

“Huh? He let ya go? Y’know why? We can watch ya house if ya leave.”

Antonio looks conflicted, a look Tino and Berwald know well. It’s a look people give officers when they want to say something, either a suspect or victim.

“No...But he knows everyone I know' names…” 

Tinos’ eyes widen, oh no. Oh no. Tino looks over to see Berwald gone, the door closing with a glimpse of a brown coat; Berwald’s.

“Okay… Thank you very much for talking with us but. We really need to get going, now. Please, stay with your friends and family. Call them daily. Thank you so much! You’ll be hearing from us soon!”

Tino rushes out the door, hurting after Berwald.

“Ya thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

Tino nods, out of breath from literally running to get to Berwald’s side, Tino knows what he’s thinking, probably.

Someone's going to die.

The loud scream followed after Tino’s thought only increased the pit of worry in his stomach.

  
  
  


* * *

Lucid?

* * *

  


“Oh my gods… Colloquial, Toris! You’re like- alive!” (Holy shit)

Feliks throws his arms around Toris, so surprised he even woke up from this coma he got knocked into. It was so terrifying…

The second the officers found him he looked so… Pale. The veins in his right forearm were bright blue, yes, that’s the color of veins just. Not so vibrant. It was as if someone had poured a blue glow stick into Tori’s arm. He was barely breathing, the paramedics said, they said the chance of him surviving was so slim that Tori’s family planned his funeral. Feliks couldn’t believe it, that Tori’s family went ahead with it while his heart still beat. Feliks stayed by his side, just, watching him. For any sign of life, seeing the faint rise and fall of his chest. He would watch the uneven beats on the heart monitor. 

Almost seven weeks was Toris in that comma. So many times would his heart stop and scare the living daylights out of Feliks. So many times would a doctor think he’s brain dead only for him to show some miraculous sign of activity an hour later. It was the scariest time of Felik’s life. He’s quite sure that nothing can compare to those awful weeks of his life.

“What-? Alive? I was? I was asleep?”

Feliks let Toris go, his brows raised. Does he not remember what happened? It’s not like Feliks has the faintest idea as to what happened. Just how Toris disappeared for so long after getting a job as an actor at that studio.

The studio!

“Tori! You don’t remember? You like- got this weird dupa job as some actor, ‘member?” (ass)

Toris gives Feliks a funny look, like he’s confused. So, he really has no clue what happened? Maybe that’s a good thing. It can’t be anything good.

“Uhm… No? Since when did I wanna be an actor?”

Now, Feliks is confused. Does Toris not remember anything? Does he have amnesia? If he did, he probably would have politely asked who Feliks was, but he hasn’t.

_"Tori? I have one of my famous personal questions for you!"_

_"Huh?"_

_Toris looks distracted when he drags the nail polish brush over Feliks' nail._ _The bright pink goes all over his finger, since Toris has never painted nails before._ since Toris has never painted nails before.

_"Whaddya wanna be when you grow up?"_

_Toris looks up, the frown on his face from when he realized he smudged nail polish over Feliks' nail disappears, replaced by an excited smile._

_"I wanna be an actor!"_

_Feliks smiles too, it makes him happy to see Toris' face light up. He completely forgets about the bright pink polish drying on his finger._

“Tori? Do you remember me? You knowwww? Your totally amazing bf?”

Toris does nod, which brings a sigh of relief from Feliks. So, he just doesn’t remember his lifelong dream? Weird.

“Wait! I know what you’re talking about, Feliks! You mean that place… What’s the name… Uh…”

“PeachTree films?”

“Yes! That’s- oh my god I remember!”

Feliks jumps, surprised by Tori’s outburst, he just regained consciousness about a day ago. Which then the doctors were swarming all around him so Feliks wasn’t allowed in. 

“You remember? Like- what exactly?”

Toris rubs his forearm, looking into the glow-like blue pulsing through his veins. Feliks pokes Toris into the shoulder, hoping to snap him out of his mythical-esque arm. The prodding doesn’t do much, which does scare Feliks.

“Uh- Tori? Are you like, in there?”

Tori’s head snaps up, his wide eyes meets Feliks’s, which startles him. There’s something different in Toris’ eyes, which Feliks does take notice of how an empty look is in them. As if he’s found out something awful.

“Yeah… I remember… I remember it all. There was- I think… I think a cult, Feliks, oh my god. I was in a cult.”

That was definitely something Feliks wasn’t expecting, of all things to hear, a cult of some sorts was certainly not what he wanted to hear.

“You… You what?! A cult? How? How’d you get out?”

Toris shakes his head, as if that answer keeps flashing in his head, just not long enough for him to see it. This situation just got so much stranger.

“Honestly...? I don’t know. I just remember this person talking about the pure and the impure. Then- then this…”

To show emphasis, Toris points to his arm. That is now glowing? What in the world…?  
  


“T-Tori? That’s looking really, really like- mutant like.”

Toris looks down at his arm, his eyes widen, he pokes the glowing bright blue, his eyes growing in size. Feliks’ widens too, the blue spreading from the veins now to a thick circle around the whole arm.

“Oh- oh my…-”

Whatever Toris wanted to say was cut short, by his eyes rolling into the back of his head, falling forwards only to be caught by Feliks.

“Oh my god…!”  
  
---


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okayyyyy this is finally being posted. I'm so sorry that it took longer but I've been missing my gf so I talk to her for actual HOURS! Personal matters aside, this chapter is EXTREMELY. dramatic. I'm not kidding when I say I gave myself anxiety writing this :p Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoy this wild chapter! <3

\-----------  
He’s Unfair  
Chapter Three  
\---------------

“What the hell…? Ugh… My head…”

Alfred sits up quickly, wincing because of how fast his movements are.

“Finally! It’s taken you long enough to wake up!”

Alfred blinks a few times, reaching blindly out for his glasses at a non-existent table. Alfred looks back up to see a blurry head of blonde hair, the voice is familiar enough for Alfred to put the pieces together in his mind.

“Ugh… Artie? That’s you, right? I’m so blind without my glasses!”

Alfred knows he’s trying to sound irritated, it just sounds like a pout. He hears Arthur sigh, him walking over to take a seat down by Alfred.

“Yeah, it’s me. Just rest okay, Alfred? You of all people need sleep, not to go galavanting around at that sketchy studio.”

Alfred’s pout grows bigger, with him crossing his arms. He shakes his head, not really wanting to rely on his voice since he needs to save it all for his big acting champain.

“What!? Nooooooo, Artie! I need to work! You know how much I need this job! I need it! It’s so sad and lonely at my house since Mattie moved in with Gil, and you don’t talk to me much anymore!”

Alfred squints, trying to see Arthur’s face since he’s sitting right next to him, all he can really see are Arthur’s furrowed brows.

“Listen… I- I’m really sorry, about earlier? Well, yesterday. I just- I don’t mean to criticize you. Ever. That’s not- That’s not what I want to do, or make you think that way…”

Alfred became taken aback by Arthur’s words. It makes him so oddly happy that Arthur apologized. Not because he did, just because he cares enough to. That’s what means the world to him in every sense of the word.

“Okay… It’s fine, really! You don’t need to apologize, Artie! I guess I just got really excited and the excitement changed or something? I don’t know but, it’s good, great even!

Alfred knows Arthur just sighed, one of his not so famous ones but one Alfred has heard enough that he enjoys it; one of contempt.

“Oh~ tu le menteur, sourcils” (You liar, eyebrows)

Both Alfred and Arthur groan simultaneously, Alfred doesn’t hate Francis at all, he just sort of dislikes him because of how he teases Arthur till he loses it.

“You son of a bitch! I told you to go home! Why are you still here? Can’t you take no for an answer?!”

Alfred looks to wherever he can guess Francis is, he can’t really see him but by the slur in his voice, Alfred can take a guess at what happened while he was out cold.

“I mean… Yeah, Francis, why are you still here? Artie did ask to go home…”

Francis, or, who Alfred thinks is Francis, makes an outraged cry; either actually furious or not. Alfred can’t really tell.

“Quoi?! Why am I here? I am the one who practically lives here-” (What!?)

“What?! What are you talking about? You most certainly do not live here and you never will, git!”

Alfred retains a laugh, he is able to for a minute, then he fails, letting a little laugh slip out. He can tell Arthur turned to him to see as to why he’s laughing, before joining in on it too.

“What?! Why are you two laughing? Is that laughter towards me?”

“Ahaha! Yes! You wanker! It’s so damn funny you think you live here! I will never let you live here!”

The maybe funny mood that was building up died at Arthur’s words. Alfred knows the tension between Arthur and Francis is very thick, like a cloud in the room whenever they’re near each other.

“Pfft! So what? I can get my own place anyway! I don’t need you or your copain.”

Alfred knows it, everyone visibly stiffens at Francis’ words. The way he said it, Alfred knows that word. Boyfriend. Why would Francis say it with such venom? Is he… Jealous? Alfred can’t really understand why, he and Arthur aren’t even dating. After all, Alfred doesn’t think he even has a chance anyway. He heard someone talking about how the reason they always fight is ‘sexual tension’ or something along the lines of that. Hearing those words effectively smashed all the confidence Alfred had built up to saying anything to Arhtur about his… Feelings? Alfred doesn’t even know what to call them anymore.

“Do I need to go? I can-”

“No! You are not leaving! You are the person I actually need here, Alfred!”

Silence again, boy, what a day. At this moment, Alfred really wishes he can find his glasses, he’d kill to see the look on everyone’s faces. He has an idea of the one on his; shock. Did Arhtur really just say… He needed him? The Arthur Kirkland? This entire situation is becoming like one of those soap dramas from the 1930’. Something Alfred remembers well, how he and Arthur would sit on his couch for hours at a time; hate-watching the dramas for hours. Also around that time did he realise he’s starting to get feelings for the particular Brit that wasn’t exactly friendly.

“Whatever, Arthur, you’re so delusional.”

“Oh? I’m the delusional one here? Says the wine-loving bastard! I’m not the one always chatting with my long deceased girlfriend!”

There was a long stretch of silence. As if some invisible line was just crossed, Alfred doesn’t really know Francis well, definitely not enough to hear about a dead partner. There’s possibly a very brutal staredown going on at the moment. Much to Alfred’s dismay he can’t exactly visualize what’s happening.

“What the putain did you just say?!” (fuck)

Now, Alfred is not multilingual, he just knows curse words and a few terms in some languages. Specifically, he learned almost every curse word in French because of how ‘fancy’ it sounds when saying something vulgar. Still, hearing such a strong word out loud and directed at someone Alfred knows, is definitely not a feeling he enjoys.

“You heard me! I’m not the crazy one mourning over someone I hardly even knew-!”

“SHUT UP!” 

Despite himself, Alfred winces. He actually winces. Francis’ booming yell reverberates throughout the room. The yell was so loud, it knocked a bottle of some drink onto the floor, the glass shattering everywhere with a loud; crash! 

“How dare you! I would never, ever bring up something like that to you! Oh wait, you don’t even know what love is, do you? Of course you don’t! No sane, normal person would bring up things that I specifically said were taboo! You’re heartless!”

Some more silence, Alfred doesn’t agree with a word that just came out of Francis’ mouth. Sure, Arthur can be a little insensitive sometimes. Not cruel, or heartless. Even though Alfred is about as blind as a bat, he stands up, speaking before Arthur can get a word in.

“Francis, man, calm down! You’re acting a little irrational-”

“Irrational?! Me?! Irrational?! I can’t believe you! Your dear Arthur could say he’d murder me with a steak knife and everyone would just laugh it off-”

“Francis…-”

“Be quiet and let me speak! Oh mon dieu you Americans never let me finish!” (my God)

“I- excuse me?”

The tension is building, if tension was fog, the whole room would thickly cover the room. So much so that no-one can see or breathe in the thick fog. Alfred can’t see the theoretical tension, yet, he’s still choking over it. He already can’t see in the first place. 

“Oh! Oh yes, of course! Nobody ever pays attention to the French, I suppose! Oh, no no, no-!”

Whatever Francis was about to go off on was cut off swiftly, by what? Alfred can’t be sure till he hears a specific sound, a smack of sorts… A lip smack… Is…?

“Shut up, Frog. You know that isn’t true. People do pay attention to you.”

Oh, oh… 

Alfred can guess what happened, the kiss must have been quick. At least, that’s what Alfred could guess. He can imagine both Arthur and Francis’ faces right now. Probably an awe-struck glance between the two of them. Alfred doesn’t want to admit it, he wants to be happy that Arthur already has someone…? Even though he used to state so passionately that he hated Francis? Was it just a lie to make Alfred feel better? Why? Why would Arthur even try to make Alfred think he has a chance if he kisses Francis the second he gets to? Alfred won’t admit it but, he’s jealous. No, no, he’s sad. He’s sad that all the little things he thought were romantic that Arthur did were apparently not. Friends… 

“I- I’m gonna go… Have fun.”

Are Alfreds’ words bitter? Oh, yes. Yes they are. 

“Wait! Alfred! Come back, dammit!”

For the second time in about a day, Alfred walks away from Arthur.

Maybe he should look both ways before crossing.

CRASH!

\---------  
Revealed  
\----------

“Did I… Hurt you?!”

“No! No! Of course not, Lud! You just, ha, startled me!” 

“Still… I- what-? Almost dislocated your shoulder?”

“No! O mio Dio no! You just shook me, Luddy!” (Oh my God)

Ludwig is horrified at his actions he took the day prior. He just couldn’t think straight. He failed a job and someone saw him. His reputation was perfect, not a single mark. He was silent, calm, ruthless, calculating. He can just imagine the person who hired him for the hit pouring a cup of coffee all over his resumé. A permanent stain over his flawless page. Then, he injures Feliciano during what only he can call a fit of rage. If he remembers correctly though, Feli mentioned the name of the person he was ordered to take down. That can’t be the same person… Can it?

“Uhm… Feli… What was the name of Matthew’s… Brother? Was it?”

Feliciano frowns, making Ludwig remember, oh. That was the moment he probably freaked out the night before. It’s such a terrifying thing to think about, how Ludwig could have really hurt Feliciano. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if so much as a scratch lands upon his head from Ludwig. Though, this time, he’s lucid.

“Well… His name is Alfred. Remember? They look so much alike that almost everyone confuses them for each other. It was really funny at their engagement party, when Antonio came up and congratulated Alfred, when he meant Matthew, for his engagement to Gilbert! It was really funny, till Arthur came in and freaked out, actually thinking Alfred was marrying your brother!”

For some odd reason, Ludwig can’t remember how his brothers’ fiance’s brother looks. Maybe Ludwig needs to start paying more attention. Oh, wait. Ludwig remembers that was the day Feliciano wore that blue tuxedo. No wonder Ludwig doesn’t remember what happened; he was staring. Of course, now Ludwig does remember Gilbert’s fiance. If his brother looks anything like him, things will be so much more complicated. Why can’t he remember anything too well?

“Oh- ahahah… Ah- yeah… Do you have a picture of him? Matthew’s brother?”

“Oh-! Yeah! Here, let me find one, it’s from the party. And it’s a group picture we all took. I think you were drunk, haha…”

Ludwig flushes, despite himself; he hates it when his beer… Problem is mentioned. Of course, as everyone tells him, he’s a ‘funny’ drunk. Whatever that is.

A grainy, very zoomed in picture on a phone is shoved in Ludwig’s face. He studies the face zoomed in on, he stifles a gasp. That’s him! That’s the man Ludwig was supposed to take down. He would have murdered his brother’s fiances’ brother. Ludwig’s eventual brother in law. The thought he almost killed a ‘family’ member is terrifying. At least, he was the one that got the hit; not a different hitman who would have taken down whoever else was at the scene. Still, that means that his one day ‘brother in law’ is being hunted down by a very dangerous group of people.

Ring ring! Riiiiiing a-ling! Riiiiii-!

“Ciao! This is- Woah! What!? He got hit!? By a...Car!?”

Ludwig raises both his eyebrows in surprise as Feliciano asks questions about whatever happened about someone getting hit by a car? Again? Why does this always happen to people? It’s such a terrible thing…

“Oh-okay! We’ll be there in a minute!”

Feliciano ends the call, presumably, then, he faces Ludwig, a look in his eyes that Ludwig hates seeing; sadness.

“Alfred… He got hit by a car… Not at really high speeds, so I think he’s going to be okay but, the doctors aren’t sure. He’s knocked out cold. Matthew wants us there. I’m going, will you?”

Ludwig knows he can’t say no, still. A pit of anxiety fills his stomach. What if the person that was there knows Ludwig? Ludwig really didn’t really see the person’s face. Of course, the other person probably got a really good look at him. Ludwig wasn’t able to because he was in such a panic to get out of there, he hardly caught any details.

“Okay… Let’s go to the hospital.”

Ludwig had to remind Feliciano to get his crutches, since he was raring to go. The drive there wasn’t tense, per say. Just; silent. Not really a scary silence. Ludwig can’t really remember the person except trying to… get a knife in his chest. Feliciano, on the other hand, Ludwig turns his head to look at him, getting his answer. Feliciano is worried. Despite not really hanging out with many people anymore since...The incident. It really hits Ludwig. What would Feliciano do if he knows what Ludwig tried to do? Or, that he’s been lying for almost three years now? Will he be so upset he cries? Or… Worse?

“Okay… We’re here…”

Ludwig doesn’t have to look far to see an emergency vehicle towing out an alive person. Very, very, bloody. The sight is awful, even from a distance. Another thing making the situation so much worse is the screams. Not from the victim. His friends, family, and whoever else is there. From the place in the car, Ludwig can see a golden blonde, sobbing, literally sobbing. Ludwig feels a hand wrap around his, his eyes meeting Feliciano’s- oh my goodness. Ludwig can hardly breathe, Feliciano’s deep brown eyes are round as saucers, tears edging on the waterline. It breaks Ludwig’s heart. He doesn’t want to see Felicianio cry. It’s something he never wants to see. Of course, it’s inevitable.

“Is-is this what it was like? When I got...Hit?”

A lump forms in Ludwig’s throat. There never really being silence in the car over the loud cries and screams. It sounds like a brutal war. Yet, it almost is. The brutal war over a body. 

“No… It was- so… So much worse…”

Ludwig sees as Feliciano physically tenses, his eyes becoming fixated on the carpet of Ludwig’s car. The truth is, it really was terrible. Ludwig remembers so vividly, he drank himself to almost six bars in one night. He was so wasted he couldn’t even breathe without gurgling on alcohol. Gilbert told him how he tried to pull the wheel to crash into oncoming traffic. Ludwig also remembers Feliciano’s brother, Lovino, going into an actual seizure. Having two life-threatening accidents in one day. It was a catastrophe. 

“O-oh… I- I’m sorry, Lud. Can- can we go in now?”

Hearing Feliciano apologize for being injured almost makes Ludwig laugh. How can he be so… Sweet? It’s such a mystery to Ludwig how on Earth is Ludwig able to know, let alone live with? He doesn’t really know. Still, Ludwig opens the car door, getting out then walking over to Feliciano’s door. He opens the back door first, pulling out his crutches, then opens his door. Ludwig puts his hand out for him to take.

“Thank you…”

Felciano takes his hand, sending a spike of electricity up Ludwig’s spine. He loves it some days, he hates it others. It’s like a curse. He isn’t sure if maybe Feliciano casted a spell on him when they met each other, on the opposite sides during an intense battle during their draft years.

The closer they get to the scene, Matthew goes running up to them, a tissue held close to one of his eyes. Both of them are quite red and puffy. 

“H-hey guys… I- I’m so glad you… You made it…”

“Of course! I’m so sorry this happened! He’ll be okay!”

Feliciano runs up to Matthew, giving him a hug, he flings his crutches to the side; nearly giving Ludwig a heart attack. 

“This is all your f-fault! You! If you didn’t y-yell at him…”

“What!? How dare you! If you didn’t kiss me! He wouldn’t have run away-”

SLAP!

Ludwig turns his head to see where all the noise is coming from. He sees the same short blonde who was crying over Matthew’s brother. Which apparently, he slapped whoever the other blonde is, who has longer blonde hair.

“I did that… To shut you up! You fucking idiot! How dare you!”

“To shut me up?! That’s certainly a way of ‘shutting someone up’! Is that how you shut up Alfred huh? With tongue too?!”

Ludwig feels rather uncomfortable. This is not a place he belongs. The only way he really knows really only one of these people is through politeness. Which is the victim’s brother. Who is Ludwig’s brothers’ fiancé.

“I… Shut up, Francis!”

“Hah!? You just don’t know what to say, do you!?”

“Guys! Please! This is a hospital! Not some marital counseling!”

That. That’s a voice Ludwig recognizes, Gilbert.

“Gilbert? You came here too?”

Once Ludwig speaks, the blonde who slapped the other looks directly at Ludwig, then, the guy gasps.

“Oh my god! Why the bloody ‘ell are you here?!”

Ludwig swallows thickly, this person must know him from the ‘attempt’ earlier today. The blonde points at Ludwig, causing everyone to stop talking, all turning to see what on Earth is going on.

“Uh… Arthur? Luddy came here with me. Matthew wanted him here. So, I let him go.”

Feliciano comes to stand by Ludwig. A pounding migraine is making its way up Ludwig’s skull. He thinks he knows what this person is going to say; it’s terrifying.

“What!? Do you know what I saw… This man trying to do today!?”

Arthur doesn’t wait for anyone to reply, or breathe. Or think

“I caught him… Trying to… kidnap Alfred!”

Everyone goes silent. It feels like the floor just fell out from under Ludwig. He can’t breathe well. The room feels… Brighter than it was. As if, Ludwig is dreaming. He sure hopes he is.

“Listen, Artie. Good ol’ West would never, ever do something like that! I know today has been really stressful but don’t blame it one my brother!”

“I’m sorry, Arthur but… Luddy would never do that! Come on, why would he?”

Ludwig wants to cry. He truly does. His brother and Feliciano don’t believe Arhtur. They think he’s lying… It hurts Ludwig so much, he wishes that Arthur was lying. That he was some crazy person gone nuts by whatever his relationship with the person who got hit. 

“You… You guys don’t believe me?! I… I saw him! When Alfred wakes up, he’ll tell you the same! Or…”

Arthur looks at Ludwig, sending a cold chill of terror up his spine. This isn’t happening.

“You could tell everyone the truth, Ludwig.” 

Ludwig feels the eyes of everyone on him, burning holes into his sides. Feliciano’s gaze is so nice, even now it holds no flame, no anger, just… A question. What are you gonna say, Luddy? 

“I… I… It… It’s t-true…”

The inquisitive silence just turned stoned. Ludwig can’t look at anyone. He can’t see the betrayal in Feliciano’s green eyes. Or the disapproving stare of his brother. He… He can’t…

So, he turns around, his eyes closed.

And runs.

\--------  
Gunfire  
\--------

Pow!

Lovino screams he actually screams. Never, ever has he experienced something so painful in his life. Shakily, he looks down to see blood. Actual blood. Pooling from an awful looking bullet hole in his left thigh. He looks up to see something he will never forget….

A gun pointed directly to his face. Lovino freezes, he can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t blink or a bullet will most likely be driven directly into his skull. He can’t even think correctly. All his thoughts are swarming, still, he can only really think of one thing. A person.

“L-Lovino!”

Exactly. Exactly who he was thinking of is standing about a foot away from him and whoever the gun holder is. Lovino will not turn his head. He can’t. He’s doing everything he can not to scream and cry as loud as he possibly can.

“Do. Not. Move. Or, I will eliminate him.”

It’s as if everything is going in slow motion. In the corner of his eye, Lovino can see Antonio pause, his eyes are round as saucers. He doesn’t move a muscle either. Hopefully, he understands the severity of this situation. Especially the state of Lovino’s mind and how he’s about to go into a complete panic.

“Now, give me your wallet. Now.”  
Lovino can see Antonio practically throws his own shoulder out of socket to snatch his wallet from his pocket. Lovino finds it odd, the motion is fluid. As if… Antonio’s done this before? Or maybe the amount of extreme pain and adrenaline is making him imagine things. The bullet in his thigh aches with such an intense pain. As if his whole leg is being burned from the inside out from such a strong fire it turns skin to dust in seconds.

“Good, good. Now here.”

Suddenly, the world spins, or, maybe the person who had Lovino at gunpoint shoves him over. He can’t really walk currently, so he falls. The falling is interrupted by Antonio, thankfully, catching him. Otherwise, Lovino probably would have passed out and never woke up.

“Oh dios mío… ¿Estás bien? ¡Por supuesto tú estén no! ¡Tú sólo tiene disparo!” (my god… Are you okay? Of course you are not! You just got shot!)

Lovino is in no shape to even try to translate. He can’t. He won’t. There were a few words he did understand immediately so Antonio’s point did get across. Of course Lovino isn’t okay. There’s a river of blood almost flowing from his thigh. Maybe the bullet hit an artery? What if it’s stuck in there…?

“Voi paska! What happened here?! Are you alright?” (Holy shit!)

Lovino looks over barely to see those two officers who interviewed Antonio. They both came rushing over, despite himself, Lovino doesn’t trust these officers. He doesn’t have a reason to and he will not until proven otherwise. He leans in closer to Antonio, with him putting a hand on his back. At any other time it would have been comforting. Of course, all Lovino can feel is pain. Aching, brutal pain. 

“He- L-Lovino got sh-shot! He- he’s bleeding oh- oh dios mio…” (my God)

Lovino almost wants to laugh, Antonio looks in worse shape just by seeing his face. Tears are running down his face in many streams, his eyes are red and puffy. What a regular occurrence nowadays. It’s so horrifying. Lovino used to rarely see Antonio cry. Neither of them were criers. Though, just in the few three days Lovino has seen Antonio since he’s left, he’s cried almost four times. It’s understandable. Lovino hates it though. Antonio shouldn’t have any reason to cry right now. Lovino is the one who got shot. Still, it breaks Lovino’s heart that Antonio has a reason to cry despite this.

“Okay… Okay. We need to go. Now-!

Before the pale blonde officer can finish his sentence, a hail of gunfire cuts him off short. The bullets go nowhere near anyone’s location, just loud enough to silence nearly anyone. The gunfire sends a wave of terror through Lovino. Antonio must have noticed, since he pulls Lovino tighter to his chest. Lovino dares a look down to his leg. He gasps. There’s blood covering his entire pant leg. He had bright blue jeans, now stained so it looks almost black where he was shot. It hurts. That’s all Lovino can really think. It still hurts.

“Love… Can- Do you think you can walk…?”

As much as Lovino cares for Antonio, he can say some very dumb things. Of course he can walk! He got shot, not a knee amputation. At least then he probably would have been knocked out due to blood loss or trauma. 

“Y-yes sei pazzo, idiota?! Of c-course I can walk!” (Are you crazy, idiot!?)

Antonio, being beyond noticing at this time, didn’t miss the minor stutter in Lovino’s voice. Lovino is trying to keep his voice at a normal octave. He doesn’t want to start crying. Not near Antonio. Not now. Just to prove his point, Lovino pushes himself out of Antonio’s grasp. Much to both of their dismays. After getting out of Antonio’s careful hold, he puts his right leg on the floor. Nothing happened. He’s able to stand without any pain. That’s his uninjured leg.  
Then the left. The second it hits the floor, Lovino’s knee buckles. Pain explodes in his body, so extreme his vision blacks out in places. Stars appear all over, as if he’s some cartoon character. He lets out a strangled pained cry, everything feels dream-like. Just with nightmarish pain.  
“Love, stop!”

Antonio doesn’t have to tell him twice. Lovino does stop, he already did. The pain is almost too much to bare. An arm wraps around Lovino’s shoulder, pulling him back into Antonio’s chest. Lovino’s legs are pulled up from under him, presumably, Antonio is carrying him in bridal style. The romantic nut. The only thing Lovino can do is not to pass out. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Just… Just breathe… Okay, please?”

Okay, there are two things Lovino can do at this moment. Breathe; and not die. Sounds simple enough to someone in normal life. Of course, it’s taking all of Lovino’s will to not just stop breathing for a moment. Just to pass out and bask in the darkness behind his eyelids. The only thing keeping him from diving in are Antonio’s ridiculously green eyes. They’re so worried. It’s odd, Lovino must know him really well to be able to tell his expression by just seeing his eyes. 

“Help is here! There’s an ambulance oh my god we’re safe!”

Some person Lovino has never heard of or seen, yells. There was so much gunfire… It does make sense. Whoever decided to rob a police station is insane. Why would they ever do anything like that? The place is armed to the teeth with officers.

“¡Oh gracias a Dios! Love… You’re going to be okay!” (thank God!)

Lovino gets whisked out of his thoughts by seeing Antonio. What a sight he is. There are more tears coming from his eyes, except, this time, Lovino thinks these tears aren’t sad… Happy? Is he seriously crying out of happiness?

“Over here! We have someone shot! I think he’s in shock!”

Lovino smells something odd, the smell of something sterile. Like a hospital. Or gloves. Or just something associated with the word clean. Lovino does understand what’s happening. Only partially. He knows he got shot, he’s probably lost a ton of blood, which is why he feels so light… Almost like a feather floating in the wind.

Someone, presumably a paramedic, pulls him away from Antonios’ arms. Lovino doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to leave his arms. Or those green eyes. Not again. Of course, Lovino doesn’t really have a choice. He can’t even stand. Let alone protest his own rescuing.

Lovino does notice something while he’s being carried away by a stretcher, he notices a letter, spray painted on the floor in red, a small, sloppy letter…

M.

\------  
Chaos  
\------

If Gilbert could sum up his entire day in one word, it would be chaos. Complete and utter chaos. First, poor Alfred gets hit by a car. Which is about two months after Feli also got hit by a truck. Then, a huge group of shot officers, thugs, and apparently, Feliciano’s brother; Lovino. Oh, and Ludwig is apparently a pathological liar who lied to everyone, including him and Feli. He isn’t a food truck owner. No, he’s a crazy hitman who tried to murder Alfred! Oh yes, today has been extremely chaotic. With a lot of crying, a lot of it.

“I can’t… I can’t believe this! West… Why would he lie to us?! To me!? I’m his brother, for goodness’ sake!”

Gilbert is also frustrated, so much has happened today, he just feels drained. Of course, seeing Matthew cry really feels like a sock to the jaw. His brother is in the hospital, having surgery at this moment. While Gilbert has a date with his new colleague tomorrow evening.

“G-Gil… It’s okay… Maybe- Maybe he was just doing it to… To protect y-you…”

Every word Matthew says feels like another punch. How can Gilbert do this? He loves Matthew so very much, he’s his fiance! 

“Still… I don’t understand why on Earth he would do that! Ludwig is my brother! He even lied to Feliciano who he said he wanted to marry even though they aren’t really even dating!”

Gilbert sighs, he doesn’t mean to get upset, especially not for his anger to feel pointed at Matthew, he’s already had enough happen to him today. Gilbert understands he is certainly not being fair to Matthew. In any way, for that matter. He’s supposed to marry Matthew in about three months. Yet, here he is, lying, just like his brother. It’s ironic. Of course, this lie is so much more… Personal than Ludwig’s. Ludwig might actually have some sort of reason as to why he lied to everyone. Gilbert? Not exactly. His reason for lying to someone? Especially the person he loves? He wants to marry eventually? Some sort of attraction to a stranger? It’s so cruel… So unfair.

“I’m sorry G-Gil…”

Matthew sniffs, the sniff feels like a bullet being driven through his skull. It truly feels like he’s being shot by guilt. All the anger at his brother is long gone, he can’t be mad at his own brother for doing something he’s doing too. It would be extremely hypocritical. Very un-awesome of Gilbert. 

“You’re… Matthew Jones, correct? Alfred Jones’ brother?”

Gilbert didn’t notice that a doctor walked into the room, with hands folded behind his back. It’s a scary, ominous pose. Exactly like the one the doctors gave Ludwig and Gilbert when their mother passed away. 

“Huh? Oh… Y-yes…”

Of course, this time, Gilbert isn’t the one who would really lose anything. Sure, him and Al are decent friends. More drinking buddies if anything. They never would have met otherwise if Gilbert never proposed to Matthew. 

“Well, after a few close calls during surgery, he’s okay. We expect he’ll make a full recovery. As long as nothing abnormal happens then he’ll be fine.”

Oh thank God… Gilbert exhales a sigh of relief, not for himself, for Matthew, who looks exhausted. So much so it tugs at Gilbert’s heart. He has such a wonderful, caring, beautiful person who loves him deeply right here. Though, why is that Austrian the one person clouding his thoughts?

“What!? He’s going to be okay!? Holy hell…”

Gilbert also forgot about Arthur, who was sitting diligently in the waiting room with them. Gilbert has always been a little curious about Arthur’s relationship with the American is. They always seem really close, and Gilbert remembers clearly how Alfred would always sputter on in his wasted ramblings about how attractive Arthur looked in some green khakis eight months ago. Gilbert always thought it was hilarious, then a little strange. Why didn’t Alfred ever say anything? Since, apparently, Arthur made out with some French guy Gilbert really can’t remember at this moment.

“W-woah, really? He’s going to be… Okay?”

The doctor nods, albeit a tad hesitantly which confuses Gilbert. Did something happen during surgery? Why would the doctor lie? Weird.

“Hello? Excuse me, I’m coming in to ask a few questions, I’m Alfred’s employer, Marrakesh Kuzmich.”

Yet another person makes his appearance, this person however, is someone Gilbert knows he has never seen before in his life. The name does sound familiar however…

“Oh… Okay, go ahead?”

This man, Marrakesh is abnormally tall, Gilbert takes note of this since he is a tall person. Yet, this man is like a tower; at least seven-foot one. There’s also a long, blade-like tattoo with a venomous snake on his bicep, under it is the words ядовитый лезвие. Gilbert frowns, studying the tattoo. Poisonous blade… Isn’t that the name of a gang? One that was around in Russia a few years ago? Why would an ex-member be walking around with a Russian gang tattoo on his bicep and be showing it so proudly? That does confuse Gilbert.

“I heard from a paramedic he got hit by a car… I’m rather sorry to hear of such unfortunates. That’s such a tragedy. You see, I’m running a group of sorts, for people injured from reckless drivers. Don’t you want to give Alfred a sense of justice? In the judicial court, reckless drivers are often given the benefit of the doubt. Whilst poor victims suffer idly by. It’s so cruel and unjust to those squandered by those of law. With one’s permission, I could help with physical therapy, assisting in office and such. Whilst also aiding in the court of law, what say you?”

Gilbert is put off by the man’s speech. It’s far too formal for a group of young adults in the twenty-first century. Gilbert passes a look to Matthew to see he seems just as confused as Gilbert is.

“Uh… Alfred is over eighteen. Can’t you just ask him? I don’t think you need to ask us.”

The man smirks, which is an odd time to smile. Gilbert doesn’t even know this man, yet, he almost unnerves Gilbert. Of course, he could just be on edge today. Since it’s been absolutely insane.

“Well, you see, my services are limited; with my schedule being quite tight. Seldom are days when I am bestowed freedom. Thus, today is one of the aforementioned days. My only day of freedom for another moon. Since I heard the injured one won’t awaken for another sun-set, I’ve decided to state my case to the closest of kin and intimates.”

This whole situation is off-putting to Gilbert. He doesn’t think anyone knows this man. He doesn’t think Alfred does really, either. All this man probably is to Alfred, is his employer. Which Gilbert heard he just got hired in the first place.

“Well… I’m really sorry but… I’m not really sure I want to agree to something without Alfred’s consent. S-sorry…”

The man crosses his arms, an… Angry look on his face? Seeing that makes Gilbert clench his fist, if someone dares say anything rude to Matthew then Gilbert will move heaven and hell to make sure they regret it. Obviously peacefully, usually.

“Oh, really? Well, you see… The viscous driver might try to flip the charges I shall try to press. There is an abundant payout if the driver wins. Many, many years of debt for a sin where he was the true victim. I would be truly aggrieved if such a terrible act happens.”

Gilbert starts to get irritated, the way this man’s eloquent speaking is starting to really annoy him. Gilbert can tell that this man is a native Russian. He can tell by the accent and little details here and there. Everyone Gilbert knew from Russia never spoke any language with a tone coming from the Victorian era. It makes no sense to him. This man certainly does have a way with words; for an 18th century englishman.

“W-well… If you put it like that then… O-okay…”

The man smirks, again. This time, however, it’s much more… Sinister. The man pulls out a contract as if from thin air, sliding it over to Matthew. It’s a little odd, the entire contract is pure black. While the writing is in red. It makes Gilbert feel almost unsettled. Matthew must have not been bothered by the contract, as he easily signs his name in white ink. A few seconds later, the white ink dilutes to red. It’s very almost satanic? Not really like Gilbert has any experience with that. The second Matthew signs the contract and the ink turns red, it’s snatched away before anything can be said or seen.

“Yes, yes. Thank you very much for your patronage. I’ll be bidding my farewell now. We shall all be in contact soon.”  
And with that, gone. The man briskly walks away from the room.

“Well...That was bloody ridiculous… I hope that wasn’t some bonkers scam.”

“Mhm… I feel bad for signing something without Alfred really getting a say in it but… I think it’s for the best?”

The conversation carries on, just without Gilbert really paying attention. His mind is elsewhere. Like who that man is. The name sounds so familiar…

Oh my god… The Devil’s Deeds!

Gilbert jumps out of his seat, making both Arthur and Matthew flinch. Gilbert remembers where that name came from, that famous director behind some of the most infamous movies in American history!

“Gil…? Are you okay?”

“Birdie! You won’t believe this! I remember who that guy is, the one who just walked in!”

“Uh… Yeah? The filmmaker, right?”

Gilbert’s shock dies instantly. Matthew already knew? Oh… Wait… Alfred wanted to be an actor… That does make sense.

Ding!

Gilbert pulls his phone out of his pocket, his stomach drops.

Are you still coming by tonight?

Today is Saturday… About 9:45am...

His date where he ruins his marriage is only about ten hours away… 

\-----------------  
Step One Agian  
\-----------------

“I can’t believe this! It’s gone, Ber! Gone!”

Berwald is in disbelief, of course, he is able to keep his shock a bit more under control than Tino, who has overturned their entire office to find that black binder.

“Hm… Maybe ya put it unda’ a chair or somethin’?”

Berwald can tell just how exasperated Tino is, he is too; for that matter. Five whole years, wasted.

“But… How could I misplace something so important!? That’s the biggest piece of our careers and I just ‘misplace it’?! I will never forgive myself! You can’t forgive me either!”

Berwald sighs, he didn’t mean to make it sound like it’s Tino’s fault. After all, neither of them made an effort to go back and get it after the shooting. Which confuses them both. Why on earth would someone rob a police station? Most officers don’t carry cash on them. So why…

“Uhm… Guys… Soooooo, I was just looking around and take a peek at this.”

Tino practically flies out of their office to see what Matthias is talking about. Berwald is closest to the exit so he sees what Matthias meant. Right on the floor, towards the wall is a small, red M spray painted on the ground. It’s rather small and hard to see unless someone was actually looking for it. Now Berwald understands what happened. Tino must have seen it too, because he gasps.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe it! That man sent his cult members to take our file! That makes sense! Otherwise, why would someone rob a police station?!”

“I mean… Duh… But you guys can’t go to ol’ high honcho chief because rememberrr, you guys are illegal now.”

Berwald grimaces, Matthias has a point. They literally can’t do anything about it; they only have a few copies of some of the least incriminating reports of intelligence they found. Just in case an officer came across their work. 

“We’re going to have to start all over again… All we have now is a few reports of some stupid theft of maybe a candy bar and a single interview! That’s enough to incarcerate theft! Not a grand-scale crime circle!”

Tino runs a hand through his hair in defeat. They really do have to start all over again. From scratch, really. This time though, they do have more tipsters and more people willing to help. Maybe it won’t be so hard. Of course, all that Berwald can really do at this moment is hope.

“Tino… We can do this… M’kay?”

“Guys… Maybe you should… Give this up? I’m serious here, this is dangerous. I mean, if you’re telling the truth, some guy sent a group to shoot up our station for the file you guys had? Maybe he didn’t send those people here and he’s been framed?”

Berwald gives Matthias a look, all his small bits of composure evaporates. This is five years of his and Tino’s life. He can’t throw it all away. Yes, Berwald is being extremely irrational. How unlike him, of course. This is a reasonable time to lose all sense of calm.

“What!? What do you mean, ‘give this up’!? Me and Ber have worked our entire careers as officers to get this case! There are hundreds of victims’ lives this man has ruined! Imagine how many more will be destroyed if we don’t step in! That’s our job as officers, to save lives! Not stand idly by!”

Tino cut Berwald to it, saying what Berwald wanted to say; just nicer. Matthias looks taken aback, surprised at Tino’s actual yell.

“O-okay! Alright guys, I get it. And since you put it like that, I can help you guys out? I’m sure Norge would agree if I told him about all those people.”

Berwald is shocked, completely caught off-guard, Matthias showed no sign of wanting to help them earlier. Maybe now that Tino has cleared up exactly how severe the crimes this man commits painted a picture in Matthias’s mind. Even though Tino and Berwald are a team. In every sense of the word. Both marital and in the workforce. Tossing both Matthias and Lukas into their team would throw off their system of working they’ve had for years. Then again, more people, more work gets finished earlier.

“Well… Yeah… Help would be nice but what about murder investigation? You and Lukas adore that team! Why would you wanna quit it for something ‘illegal’?”

Matthias looks conflicted, making Berwald shake his head, poor Matthias. He was probably hoping Tino would have said they didn’t need any help, that they could do it themselves. Of course, now both Berwald and Tino are desperate for any help they can get. 

“Nevermin’ Matthias, jus’ a joke.”

Tino passes Berwald a horrified glance, as if begging him to take back what he just said. They need all the help they can get. Of course, help isn’t exactly something that they can have now. It’s just Berwald and Tino. Them against the world, in a sense.

“You sure? If you really need our help then we will definitely help you guys out. You’ll need it.”

“Gee… Thanks, Matthias.”

Berwald’s words are pointed, with no heat to them though, he’s beyond devastated over what just happened to their file. It was almost like their child. In a sense, hypothetically.

“Oh, did you hear about that car that hit that guy walking out of someone’s house? It’s a huge deal, especially considering what happened before the poor guy got hit. See, look, there’s a picture of him taken by a reporter before she got kicked out.”

Matthias hands the phone to Tino, Tino gasps, a gasp so shocked that it brings Berwald over to see Matthias’s phone. There is that new actor that Berwald and Tino have been trying to get a good opportunity to talk to. Now would be an amazing time. It would also be a great time for Marrakesh to make a move. Oh no…

“Tino… Do ya think…”

“Oh my god… The fake robbery wasn’t just to get the files…”

“Was’ to distract us…” 

They both immediately rush out the door, leaving Matthias utterly confused at what conversation the two just shared.

It takes only five minutes to drive to the hospital, having a few factors, one, Tino is driving, two, the police station is right next to the hospital, and three, speeding. Which is ironic in a sense.

Both race to the receptionist, Berwald raises his badge to the person sitting there. Their eyes go wide as saucers.

“Sirs, what can I do for y-you?”

“Hi, yes, can you tell us the room number of Alfred Jones? Please?”

Berwald can tell by the tone of Tino’s voice he’s antsy, this is a monumental moment for them. As has almost every second of this case.

“Ah, well… He is still in surgery at the moment but, friends and family are in the waiting hall over there by the lunch room.”

Berwald can see a group of people from the desk. About three people all sitting down, the only ones in the hall so Berwald assumes that’s them.

“Thank you, thank you!”

Both Berwald and Tino go over to the group, both hoping to the gods that these are the people.

“I still think that guy was really dodgy. He spoke how my great-grandfather spoke! And he was one-hundred and six! God… I hope Alfred’s okay…”

“Yeah… Me too… I hope he won’t be upset that I signed something for him… I think it was for his best interest… I hope.”

“Pfft! Of course it is, Birdie! How could ol’ Al be mad at you for doing something so kind and caring!”

Okay, this definitely is them. Berwald looks at Tino, Tino at Berwald. This is it. Step one all over again. Except this time, they have actual leads. 

“Excuse me, We’re officers-”

“If it’s something about insurance or being a sketchy lawyer, we already bloody have one. Thanks anyway, chaps”

Berwald knows exactly who that must be. There’s nobody else who would do that to anyone. It must be Marrakesh.

“You didn’t, by any chance, happen to make a deal with him… Did you?”

One of the people hesitantly nod their head. A lump forms in Berwald’s stomach. Oh no… What idiots…

“Y-yes… I did… Is there something wrong about it…”

“Yes, actually… You see, Alfred is now in mortal danger.”

“WHAT!?”

\----------  
Diagnosis  
\----------

“Well, we don’t know exactly what it is yet. All we do know is that it’s some dangerous chemical that we can’t take out because you could lose a lot of blood. So, we’ll just have to wait to see what it does to your body.”

“Uhm… What?! That isn’t like- super dangerous and experimental?”

The doctor hesitates, making Toris very worried. He really doesn’t know exactly what this odd, glowing stuff is inside his veins. It’s not making him feel any different. Not physically at least, mentally, he feels like he’s going insane. Sometimes he can’t see three feet in front of him. Other times he tends to forget things. Very important things. Things such as, his parents’ names, his own name, or even his own boyfriend. Who is the one talking to the doctor, despite Toris knowing for a fact Feliks is very shy.  
“Well… Yes. Yes it is. We don’t really know what it is in the first place except some chemical we’ve never seen before. We are monitoring him very closely but aren’t exactly sure what’s going on but this is the best possible care we can offer.”

“Soo… You people have nothing else? Like, at all? There’s nothing else you guys can do? Seriouslyyy?”

Oh yes, there has also been a grand total of three different doctors coming to see Toris’ condition, they each always say something about how they’re the best doctors in the country. Every one of them can’t help Toris. Which is horrifying and extremely disheartening. He doesn’t know what to do. Toris is truly scared of what’s going on inside his body.

“Yes… I’m very sorry… But we as doctors are trying the hardest we can to help.”

The doctor exits the room, leaving Feliks and Toris to sit in temporary silence. Toris has grown to hate the silence. It reminds him of what happened… There… When it’s all quiet or he sees some things, it kick starts flashbacks of when he was at that place. He knows he needs to think about it, he knows he needs to talk about it; to discover the truth behind what happened to him and all the others who were there. Then again, Toris only has one side of the story.  
“Tori… Can we talk about it? I know… I know you really don’t want to but… Don’t you wanna tell someone? The police-”

“No! No… Not the police… I think they’re involved with that… Cult.”

Toris knows how irrational he’s being, he knows it’s ridiculous how he’s acting. He’s just so scared he can’t think straight. Then again, at the moment, he can’t think well at all, since there’s a ‘strange chemical’ inside him, he has a good excuse.

“Huh? What do you mean? The cops!? Involved with that cult? Do you think that they’re like- in it somehow? That’s crazy! Do you know who the leader is?”

Toris shakes his head, he never met the ‘leader’. Neither did anyone else in the holding room. The people who weren’t with Toris or an actor were dressed in all white or black. The ones garbed in white always spoke about the ‘impurities’ Toris had. The ones in black talked about the ‘purities’. It was all so strange then that it still makes his head spin.

“No… I don’t know if the director of the studio even knew about that cult… Do you think I should tell that person? That something weird is going on?”

Now it’s Feliks’ turn to shake his head. He puts both his hands on Toris’ shoulders, a small frown on his face.

“Tori… You need to think about yourself! All these crazy doctors are trying to help you, and you wanna go out and tell the guy he has some cult he doesn’t know about?! What if that guy like- knows about it and stuff! He might… He might try to finish what he started…”

Toris catches the last sentence Feliks says. Toris knows he’s trying to be helpful, except, hearing how the director of some of his favorite movies is wanting him ‘purified for the beasts of Hell’?! That sounds so unlikely and insane…

“Ow!”

Suddenly, Toris feels a stabbing pain in his right forearm, as if a knife is being dug into the skin from the inside. It even looks as Toris is thinking, an odd, rounded point is pushing the skin over his veins up. It looks… Horrifying. As if some strange thing is trying to get out.

“Gówno! T-tori what the hell is that?! It looks like it’s from Alien!” (Shit! (or crap)

The pain feels unbearable… Though, Toris stares at the weird prodding inside his veins. As if his stare was steel, the pain subsides, taking away the odd stabbing. Toris feels so strange… Yet, something is even odder to him now. Like the person sitting right next to him on his hospital bed. Which leaves him with a few questions…

“Who- who are you…?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OkAy! I finally have a real posting scheduel now. I want to apologize for my many grammatical errors, I'll be going back once I finally finish this thing and I'll edit it. Sorry this chap is horrible xox

\-----  
Gone  
Chapter Four  
\---------------

“What the bloody hell do you mean by ‘he was transferred to a different hospital’!? Why didn’t you tell any of us why the hell you did that and where even is he for God’s sake!”

Arthur doesn’t mean to sound so outraged, he is, of course, outraged. He just didn’t really mean to snap at the doctor like that. Arthur feels like he’s to blame for Alfred getting hit by that car. Why on Earth did Arthur kiss that frog? He’s not exactly sure. Of course, hearing and then seeing Alfred in such intense pain really reminded Arthur of something. The something being he cares for that damn american. Yes, that is something Arthur did notice a long while ago. 

“W-well… You see, a uhm- lawyer… Yes a lawyer came in, telling us he needed the patient at a different hospital. We weren’t told exactly why, but, he does have consent forms from the patient’s brother.”

Oh God no… Arthur’s jaw drops, the officers from earlier were right… That ‘lawyer’ was going to take Alfred away. Where? Why? There’s about a hundred different questions swarming throughout Arthur’s mind. The biggest one being, what on Earth is going on here?!

“Okay… Do you know what hospital it is? You have to tell us, please…”

Arthur almost forgot Matthew was there. He was silent when the officers talked about how Alfred is working at a fake movie studio that apparently does unspeakable things to the people on set. The officers even said that there are connections to the mafia tied with the studio. That was a few hours ago. Which Arthur about passed out when they left, actually, he did pass out. Right on the floor.

“I’m sorry… We don’t know…”

What. Never did Arthur really think that so much could happen in one day. Well, technically two, just Arthur hasn’t really slept except for his fainting; which lasted maybe four hours, at most. His head is spinning, maybe he’ll pass out again.

“Wait, what? You can’t tell us anything? Is he okay…? Is he… even w-worse?”

Matthew must be voicing both their opinions at the moment, since that’s exactly what Arthur is thinking. Either this doctor is lying, which is the most probable. Or, the doctor really does have no clue and is just awful at the job.

“Uhm… There were a few complications during surgery… The surgeon messed up a suture in his brain to fix the internal hemorrhaging from the impact-”

“Wha… What!?”

Arthur isn’t a doctor, not by any means, though, he does know enough medical terms to get him around a hospital rather easily. Arthur knew the second he saw Alfred, lying in an ever increasing pool of blood, it would be dangerous. Still, hearing about how Alfred was bleeding inside his own brain hurts Arthur in a way he didn’t think was truly possible anymore.

“A God-awful surgeon messed up Alfred’s stitches… That person was trying to fix the bleeding… In his brain.”

Arthur doesn’t exactly have a place to let his anger loose on anyone but himself. Now, he can blame both this terrible surgeon and that ‘lawyer’...

“So- so… Is he… d-de-”

“No! Oh goodness no! We would have let you all know if the patient passed away. No, he didn’t. It just complicated the surgery. Other than that though, he’ll be fine.”

Hearing those words from a doctor usually is something that’s comforting, to know someone you care about is going to make a full recovery. Just now, Arthur doesn’t know if that’s a lie or truth. He wants to see Alfred for himself, he wants to know he’s okay. The thought of Alfred being anything but at least okay is a frightening thought to Arthur. 

“Are you damn sure?! I have no clue how he actually is since apparently, he was ‘transferred’ to some different bloody hospital without any of us even knowing!”

Arthur may have gotten around three to four hours of sleep, yet, he feels delirious. So much has happened within the six hours of being at this hospital, Arthur can hardly keep track of it all.

“Yes… I am very sure the patient is fine. If you have any more questions, go ask the idiot who signed that form for that lawyer- oh sorry. I shouldn’t have said that…”

Arthur catches a glimpse of Matthew, who looks rather pale, not that Arthur can blame him. He is quite possibly a sheet at the moment. Matthew’s fiance ran off somewhere while Arthur was asleep. He does feel bad for Matthew, still, signed that form was a very stupid descision. Arthur will point that out if push comes to shove.

“It- is Al… In t-trouble…? H-hurt!? Or even… Even worse…? Because of me…?”

Arthur decides not to comment, he might say something rather rude and insensitive. That apparently is something Arthur is; insensitive. He never really noticed it until both Alfred and Francis pointed it out in a span of two days. Arthur will refrain from hurting anyone else’s feelings. He’s done it enough. He already feels absolutely terrible about it all.

“So, what’d the doctor say? Any bad news and how about we get some coffee, no?”

Bloody fucking hell. Arthur turns his head, he doesn’t have to though, he already knows who it is. That damned frog face. Arthur thought he had left; he must have been dreaming. Obviously, since Satan's spawn stands in the doorway.

“No, you git, we have no bloody clue if Alfred is okay or not! Since apparently, he got transferred to some other blooming hospital! All because of that… That swine of a ‘lawyer’ took him away! No! We are not getting fucking coffee!”

Francis looks taken aback, which Arthur doesn’t exactly care anymore. Why should he? That bloody nut is the one who got him into this mess in the first place. Arthur finds it rather unfair, how he’s always stuck with this fool. That he happened to kiss… 

“Oh mon dieu! Arthur, all that bunched up rage is going straight to your brows! They look so huge! And… Angry! Sourcils… You truly need a break.” (My god, eyebrows)

Arthur can’t exactly explain his possible wrongly placed anger on the Frenchman. Maybe Francis really is trying to help him. Even if he is, Arthur doesn’t want it. He wants some time away from Francis. Everytime Arthur thinks about the kiss he had with Francis, he can also see the horrified (sad) expression on Alfred’s face. Seeing his face… That expression, quickly followed by him getting hit; is what will haunt Arthur’s dreams for a long, long time.

“Francis… I get it, you want to help. But, I don’t need or want your help. So please, leave me alone.”

Arthur looks away from Francis, it’s not that he doesn’t want to face Francis; he just doesn’t want to hear any ridiculous excuses or see such an injured puppy-dog look. The egotistical bastard.

“I...I’ll go for some coffee with you…”

Arthur again forgets that Matthew is in the room, which he does feel bad for forgetting about the Canadian again… Arthur is also surprised that Matthew volunteers to go get coffee with Francis. It’s an odd thing, sure, it’s not like Arthur isn’t happy about it though. He’ll finally get the peace and quiet he needs so he can think in solitude without being interrupted for at least an hour or so. Considering how Francis might give Matthew a tour de cafe. Better known as: Francis drags poor unfortunate soul all around the city in search of cafes. That’ll give Arthur a grand three hours, if more.

“Really? Well, ami, let’s go!” (friend)

“O-oui… Monsieur…” (yes, sir)

Arthur doesn’t pay attention to the conversation. He does catch that Matthew speaks French. Which quite possibly gave Francis a boner. Oh wait, Matthew is getting married. Good Lord, Arthur is beyond tired. His thoughts are so wild at the moment that he would easily down a ton of… Wine. Usually, the thought of those fermented grapes is a disgusting thought to him, it reminds him of Francis. Still, Arthur now has time to just sit and think. Like, who is that man that’s Alfred’s lawyer AND employer? Yes, Arthur knows the man is Marrakesh Kuzmich, the ‘famous’ movie director who made tens of movies that made him infamous. Yes, infamous. The reason? All his movies are very controversial. Things like, actual raping of the actors and actresses in the movies, real animal or human blood used in very gruesome ways. Some rumors even went as far as saying the man murders real people. Even crazier rumors such as an underground snuff film production going on. Arthur didn’t know about any of this until now, he just looked it up the day before that man; Ludwig, tried to kidnap Alfred. When that happened, it solidified Arthur’s worries about that studio. It terrifies Arthur that Alfred is in the hands of the ‘mastermind’ behind some of the most famously infamous movies of all time. It’s not something Arthur can afford to think about. No, he has to think of some crazy way to save Alfred. If that’s even possible at this time.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-

Arthur winces, forgetting how obnoxious his phone ringer is. Especially for unknown numbers; Arthur answers immediately.

“Hello…? Who is this?”

Silence for a moment, then, he hears a shuffle of movement, suddenly, a loud slap is heard, followed by an unintelligible cry of… pain?

“You better say you’re fine you little…”

The words sounded really cruel, it was a loud whisper, usually not loud enough for most people to hear. Somehow, Arthur does hear that.

“Uh- A-Arthur…? That’s you… Right…?”

It feels like the floor just fell out from under Arthur. That voice… It’s Alfred’s… Exactly like Alfred’s. So much so that Arthur knows it’s Alfred. This time, there’s such a difference in his usual tone between now. There’s a stutter, a soft hoarse tinge deepening his voice. His voice cracks in places, as if so much has happened to him in the few hours he’s been gone. Arthur has no clue when Alfred was taken away. In fact, he knows Alfred shouldn’t even be conscious. He just got out of surgery after having a few complications during said surgery.

“A-Alfred!? Where… Where the bloody hell are you!? Are you okay!?”

There’s more silence on the line, which terrifies Arthur, since he heard only a moment ago a loud slap. Which was probably a loud hit against Alfred’s cheek. An even more horrifying thought.

“I- I’m fine… P-perfectly fine! I’m at a… H-hospital now so… D-don’t call… Ever.”

Arthur can’t swallow, not without dragging a whole rock down his throat. It would easily tear his throat open. Something terrible is happening, something absolutely horrible to Alfred. Hearing the silence, slaps, whispers, it all means something is going on. Arthur wants to find Alfred, tell him something, anything, he just wants to hug, hold him tightly. This usually isn’t how Arthur thinks. Usually. Since he isn’t regularly thrust into the most stressful of all situations. What on Earth is going on?!

“What!? No. I’m not going to not ever call! Who do you think I am, Alfred? I need you! Everyone needs you!”

“A-Arthur… Listen… It’s by Lima Lan-!”

Whatever Alfred was trying to say, he gets cut off by a loud hitting sound. Alfred must have dropped the phone, he cried out in pain. That was the last thing Arthur heard before the call ended.

“Alfred!?”

\----------  
Disbelief  
\---------

He… He’s been lying…? This entire time…?  
Feliciano can’t believe it. He doesn’t want to believe it; that Ludwig lied to him. Feliciano never thought he would do that. All the times Ludwig said that the weather was too bad, or there were too many customers at the time so Feliciano couldn’t stop by. He always believed Ludwig. He would have never expected it without Arthur calling him out. It all feels like a dream, more similar to a nightmare.

Feliciano left the hospital around an hour after Ludwig ran away. Feliciano wants to go after him, he wants to find him and just ask… Why? Why would you lie to me…? Of course, Feliciano isn’t sure Ludwig wants to be found. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe all the days, months, and years Feliciano was with Ludwig, was all just a lie. It could be true that the only time Ludwig was being truthful was when he had a rifle pointed at Feliciano’s chest. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. There isn’t anything he wants to do with himself.

Ding!

Feliciano almost completely forgot he had his phone on him, maybe it’s… Ludwig?

Hey Feli, it’s Ant. There was an accident at the PD and… Love got shot… In an artery… I don’t think he’s okay, Feli… 

Feliciano drops his phone, he’s standing on carpet so the phone screen didn’t shatter, it just clatters to the ground. He almost falls with it, instead he leans against a nearby wall, not trusting his legs to stand for himself.

“O mio caro Dio, io pregare di teco per il tuo divine intervento di guarigione più di Lovino. Per favore salvare il suo vita, caro Dio io pregare di teco.” (Oh my dear God, I pray for your divine intervention for healing over Lovino. Please, save his life, dear God I pray of thee) 

The words come quickly from Feliciano’s mouth, the prayer his grandfather would say whenever anyone was gravely injured or dying. It always scared Feliciano then, it terrifies him now. Especially when he is the one saying it, the words came so easily it seems he speaks the words hundreds of times. The truth, he hasn’t. He only prayed that prayer once, when his parents got in that car wreck. His prayer did nothing then. He isn’t sure it will do anything now. 

Carefully, Feliciano takes an inhale, he tries to calm his shaking hands. Slowly, his hands do stop shaking, enough so that he can grab his crutches. He’s able to push himself up, good, he can stand.

He isn’t too far from the hospital, he’s in the cafe right across the street. Since he can’t really walk far; he can’t drive either. Even if he could, he wouldn’t dare drive Ludwig’s car, which is still in the hospital parking lot. He can tell as he can see it from the cafe window. A reminder Feliciano gets whenever he looks out of said window.

The walk to the hospital is quick, or as quick as Feliciano can manage with his crutches. Paired with the emotional turmoil he’s going through.

“Oh! Thank God… Feli! Are you okay!?”

Feliciano must have walked faster than he thought he did because he is now within a few feet from Antonio, who looks extremely frazzled. Feliciano doesn’t really know what happened at the police department, he isn’t sure he wants to know.

“Y-yeah… Is Lovino okay… What happened?”

Antonio takes a moment to reply, which isn’t exactly something Feliciano thinks is good. It’s probably a bad thing. 

“Well… I was going to the police for a testimony. I brought Love with me because he wanted to go. A bit after the interview was done, this group shot up the police station! Love got shot… The doctor said it pierced his femoral artery… I don’t- I don’t know if he’s gonna be okay, Feli…”

Feliciano really wants to cry. He did cry already, at the cafe where he bawled his eyes out over Ludwig. Now, he’s about to break into hysterics for his brother. This isn’t fair; for years has the Vargas family been plagued by tragedy. It all started when his grandfather, who titled himself as Rome, became Prime Minister of Italy. It was for a short time, only fourteen weeks. Yet, in that time, Rome cursed the entirety of the Vargas family for years to come.

“He- he… He got… sh-shot! M-mio caro Dio… Ti pregare di teco…” 

Feliciano whispered the mantra to himself. He has practically nothing he can really go to at the moment. He can hardly believe it. How Lovino is his last family member. Why does this happen to his family?

“L-listen… There’s a doctor keeping me updated step by step on what’s going on. Do you wanna hear about it?”

Feliciano nods, definitely not trusting his voice today either. He knows if he said anything really, his voice would break and he would easily burst into tears and never stop crying for at least a month. Obviously more.

A walk to the elevator, then a one minute wait time for said elevator to get to Lovino’s floor. It’s only a minute of waiting, it feels like hours.

“Okay… This is it… He just got out of an… Intensive s-surgery.”

Feliciano stops, he looks at Antonio then at the room number, seventeen. Seventeen is an extremely unlucky number in Italy. Feliciano remembers that clearly, since his parents lost their lives in an ‘accident’ on their seventeenth wedding anniversary. He doesn’t want to go in there all of a sudden, he’s so scared that what he’ll see of his brother, will be the last time Feliciano sees him… Alive.

“O-okay…”

Despite what he’s thinking, his heart speaks for him, he needs to be there for his brother. Even if it might break his heart.

Antonio opens the door, which Feliciano notices how he has his own eyes closed. Seeing that effectively scares any last bit of hope out of Feliciano.

The strong smell of antiseptic slams Feliciano in the nose, yes, he is in a hospital. It just isn’t as strong as it is in this room. Feliciano tries not to look at the person lying in the hospital bed, who looks about as pale as the sheets next to him. Standing a few feet away is a nurse, checking his vitals on the monitor. Feliciano can’t continue staring at the hideous bright pink flowers on the wall. Which is something Lovino would obviously hate.

Lovino.

Feliciano finally pulls his eyes away from the bright pink floral paper, his eyes landing on Lovino. He instantly wished he didn’t just look.

Lovino is still very pale, despite how he usually is so tan. There’s dark circles under his eyes, a very dark color. He looks so thin too, so much so that Feliciano can see his cheekbones prominently. Along with his collarbone. Feliciano wouldn’t even think that the person lying there is Lovino. He wouldn’t think that if this person didn’t have that signature single curl at the top of his head.

“Are you the family?”

Feliciano turns his head to see the nurse who is by Lovino’s bedside, she looks sympathetic. Feliciano is too, for Lovino. Oh, and himself.

“He- He’s Lovino’s brother. I’m his… boyfriend.”

The nurse nods her head, she looks back at the vitals then turns back to them. At this moment is Feliciano grateful that Antonio is here. Otherwise, Feliciano would have broken down when the nurse mentions ‘family’.

“Alright, well…The surgery was extremely tough. The patient almost died a few times. He had lost an immense amount of blood from the gunshot wound. Thankfully, paramedics got him here in time for the wonderful surgeons to perform a fantastic surgery that saved his life. We aren’t sure how long recovery might take. He will definitely have issues walking for a little while. Other than that, I’m sure he’ll survive after this.”

Feliciano exhales a gasp of relief, he tries to ignore all the scarier sounding words, just that Lovino will be okay. His brother will survive!

“R-really!? He’s going to live…!”

The nurse nods, smiling.

Even if it’s just for a moment, Feliciano is happy. For once in this entire day. For this one moment, he can forget about everything else that’s happening.

For this one moment, things are okay.

\-----------------  
I’ll Wait For You  
\-----------------

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Antonio blinks his eyes a few times, realizing he fell asleep. He immediately jumps up from his seat, hearing a loud pop in his knee in doing so. He checks his watch, seeing 5:05pm on it. Antonio grimaces, knowing he fell asleep in a chair for three straight hours. Three hours without knowing how Lovino is. Antonio looks over to see that Feliciano left, he doesn’t know when exactly, just sometime. He might be back, that’s a high possibility.

Antonio walks over to Lovino, looking over him is like a punch to the heart. Not the jaw, just the heart, the soul. Even though he’s been out for about a few hours, Lovino looks so pale and… Fragile, like a feather that can drift away any second. It feels like a stab to Antonio’s heart. He always thinks about how he is the one who should’ve gotten shot. Lovino of all people doesn’t deserve something terrible like that to happen to him. Yet, here Lovino is, facing a life-threatening injury, all thanks to Antonio not being able to move fast enough. Or, that’s what Antonio thinks.

Being in such a quiet room, with the only sound being the beeping of Lovino’s heart rate. It sounds a bit irregular, which doesn’t help Antonio at all. Not like he cares though, he could be torched with a flamethrower, doused in gasoline and would still stay with Lovino till the moment his heart stops beating. 

He remembers clearly, when the nurse said Lovino can wake up at any time. Which worries Antonio, what if he woke up and nobody was there to greet him? The thoughts swim in Antonio’s mind. Lovino got out of surgery about three and a half hours ago. It makes no sense why he isn’t awake yet. He was far too worried to ask any questions.

Something else Antonio realized… He has no insurance whatsoever, neither does Lovino. Antonio doesn’t want to think about finances at a time like this. Still, he heard the bill is somewhere around five-thousand dollars. A loan will cost somewhere between a few hundred dollars a month. Antonio really doesn’t want to think about something like that, he sadly can’t help it. Since this is certainly something he needs to think about. He needs to, otherwise, both him and Lovino will be on the street with not a penny to their name.

“Cosa il fottuto inferno…!?” (what the fucking hell)

Antonio’s heart leaps, actually leaps in his chest. His head snaps up, he sees Lovino, who looks worse for wear but he's talking.

“Oh… Oh my God! Love! You’re okay!”

Antonio wants to leap forward, wrap his arms around Lovino and never let go. Of course, he loves Lovino and cares far too much about him to accidentally hurt him. Instead, Antonio grabs Lovino’s hand, he squeezes it gently. Antonio almost cries in relief when he gets a squeeze back; a very faint one but a squeeze nonetheless. 

“I-... I’m fine… Cretino!” (idiot)

Antonio knows how much of a lie that is, since Lovino is beyond so pale, it looks like it’s a struggle to keep his eyes open. The moment is sweet yet heartbreaking, especially to Antonio, who feels responsible for what happened to Lovino.

“Love I- I’m so… so sorry!”

Lovino gives Antonio a look, as if he’s confused yet irritated; it doesn’t make Antonio feel better in the slightest. Considering Lovino looks nothing like himself.

“You… You fottuto cretino! Why the inferno are you a-apologizing!?

Hearing the slight stutter, even the tone of Lovino’s voice sounds so different, so soft, fragile. It’s a terrible feeling that Antonio can’t describe well. Nor does he want to.

“I- I’m so sorry… It- it should have been me-”

“C-cosa!?! Don’t you dare fucking… s-say that…” (what)

A loud sniff follows Lovino’s words, effectively scaring Antonio. Is something wrong? Suddenly, Lovino pulls his hand from Antonio's, moving it up to his back, pulling Antonio down with his head on Lovino’s chest.

“Love…?”

It’s silence for a second, then Antonio feels Lovino’s chest shaking, a sob follows shortly after that. Antonio tries to sit up to hold Lovino, instead, Lovino holds Antonio tighter.

“I- I can’t… I can’t believe… You s-said that!”

Antonio doesn’t know what to say, he knows he’s responsible for what happened, he knows he’s the one who really deserves the bullet. He is a tad confused as to why Lovino is so upset over what he said; Antonio believes it’s true. Now, what matters is that Lovino is crying. He’s actually sobbing. Antonio is able to gently pry away Lovino’s hand from his back, only to quickly clasp Lovino’s hand within his own. Antonios’ eyes meet Lovino’s; his breath catches in his throat, he feels like he’s suddenly fourteen again. Like he’s stuck in a whirlpool of green, hypnotised maybe. Antonio wipes a stray tear from Lovino’s cheek, he keeps his hand there. Lovino sniffs again, something Antonio thinks is his fault.

“Love, I’d say anything for you…”

That apparently makes Lovino cry harder, which makes Antonio feel even worse. He starts to move his hand away, only to be stopped by Lovino, putting his hand a top his.

“S-stop… Stop saying things like t-that!”

This confuses Antonio, stuff like what? He’s always like that, isn’t he? Antonio literally just says what comes from his heart. This whole situation, being at the hospital, reminds Antonio of being in the nurse’s office at school. When he got hit in the head with a rock after someone was bullying Lovino. The other kid was in much worse shape, which is one of the main differences between what happened in seventh grade compared to now. Oh yes, Antonio didn’t get shot. In the femoral artery.

“Say what?”

Lovino closes his eyes, a part of Antonio gets really scared, what if he… Never opens them…? Antonio’s fear is short-lived, since Lovino nuzzles his cheek into Antonio’s overturned hand. Antonio turns his hand, palm up, so it cups Lovino’s cheek. This is a moment Antonio wants to take a picture of so he can cherish it forever.

“Te amo mucho, mi amado.” (I love you very much, my beloved)

Lovino laughs at Antonio being so romantic, it makes Antonio so happy so hear his laugh. With everything going on, he hasn’t heard that beautiful laugh in what seems like ages.

“Tu romantico cretino…” (you romantic idiot)

The remark was sweet, no venom, there never is, especially towards Antonio. The words are very reassuring to Antonio, it makes him beyond happy. Beyond happy to know that Lovino is okay, he’s going to be fine.

“F-fratello?!” (brother)

Lovinos’ eyes pop open, he moves his head away from Antonio’s hand, much to his dismay. Antonio has a good idea on who it is in the doorway, he turns his head to see he’s right. It’s Feliciano. Who looks just as happy as Antonio is, extremely. 

“F-Feli!? You’re here?!”

Antonio gets off Lovino’s lap so Feliciano can limp over to Lovino’s bedside. Antonio stands towards the window, smiling as he watches the brotherly reunion.

“Yes! Mio Dio! I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“What!? Of course I am, cretino! I got shot in the leg! Nowhere else!”

An artery, Lovino, artery. Antonio thinks that, it’s almost insane how he’s blowing it off. It makes no sense how or why he’s acting like this. Maybe to make everyone feel better? Still, it almost worries Antonio.

“But- fratello! It… was an artery! That’s scary! You- you could’ve… Died!”

“Huh!? No way! I’m fine!”

Antonio pulls back the white window curtain, he just looks out to see what the sky looks like at this time. He sees someone, someone who looks oddly familiar, even from such a high distance. This person is someone that Antonio never, ever wanted to see again. Especially near anyone he cares about. That man’s words ring in his ear.

“Be careful what you do, Antonio. I’m always watching.”

He’s sure, that’s the man. The one who haunts his dreams, is only a few tens of feet down. As if the man knows Antonio is watching, he looks up, his eyes meet Antonio’s. His breath leaves his lungs instantly, not in an awestruck way, a horrified way, one like a character has before being killed. The man smirks. Antonio gasps, shutting the curtains the second it happens.

“Ant? Are you okay?”

Antonio turns around, meeting Feliciano's confused gaze, Lovino’s very worried one.

“Oh, yeah! I’m better than ever!”

Lies.

\----------------  
Utter Betrayal  
\---------------

“Oui, oui, mai je plaira avoir votre beau tasse de le café, no?” (Yes, yes may I please have your finest cup of coffee?) (I messed up this translation...)

Matthew hides a laugh behind his hand, seeing how Francis’ french speaking is greatly confusing the waiter.

“Uh… Sir? I don’t speak french…”

“Excusez-moi!? You must be joking, ami, this is a certified ‘french’ café, is it not?”

As fun as it’s been to learn all about the cafés in the area is, Matthew is getting a bit worn out, it’s around 5:39pm now. Apparently, there’s many more coffee shops to run by. It isn’t that Matthew doesn’t enjoy Francis’ company, he just wants to take a break from all the coffee.

“I did just start working at this café uh… ¿Si?”

That, however, makes Matthew laugh, being a native french, it’s quite hilarious to him.

“Oh mon Dieu forget it.”

Matthew turns his head to the floor, studying the brown tile with irises. The national flower of France, it’s beautiful…

“-eh! Sorry for asking you to go so early but look at this place! It’s awesome!”

That voice… That’s Gilbert? Matthew looks to where he heard the voice, Matthew’s right; there Gilbert is, talking to… Who?

“Ah, no, I understand, we’re both at the same place, same time, anyway. This place is… Nice. Rather french looking.”

Matthew tries not to stare at the person Gilbert is with. Matthew has never seen the man in any photos, Gilbert usually describes all the people he meets when he talks with Matthew. Of course, this could be the employee Gilbert is taking out to dinner?

“Matthew? You alright, mon cher?

Matthew pulls himself away from the scene where Gilbert and the mystery man are standing.

“Ah- I- I’m good…”

Francis gives Matthew a doubting look, which makes Matthew feel bad, he doesn’t really know what to say in this situation. Saying he wants to see, the better word would most probably be spying, yes, spying on his fiancé. Which is definitely something he will not tell to Francis.

“You sure…? You look distracted?”

Matthew nods his head, then shakes it, realizing what Francis actually said. The truth is, he is distracted. By whatever is going on with Gilbert. He knows he shouldn’t be in his business. He is curious, too curious.

“-ahahah! Really? You play?”

“Mh, I can say that. The piano, violin, cello, flute, harp, clarinete,-”

“Woah! That’s awesome! Six different instruments!? That’s really awesome!”

“And… You don’t have another adjective other than awesome?” 

Matthew doesn’t want to assume with what’s going on, he must be assuming things, or seeing things. He isn’t in the greatest state of mind after what happened to Alfred… Now he’s missing after Matthew decided to sign that stupid consent form for whatever and now Alfred is gone… 

“No way! Awesome is my calling card! I can’t go anywhere without using my word, awesome!”

“Mhm… Sure… Hey, are you married?”

Hearing the question really perks up Matthews’ ears. Yes, Gilbert is engaged… To Matthew. Maybe the question is just in a friendly way. Like how someone asks what color shirt the other is wearing?

“Uh… Haha… I kinda forgot I had this on… Not really, no, I’m not married.”

N… Not married? He… Gilbert doesn’t…

“Really now? That ring looks rather nice… Is that french-”

Gilbert’s next move feels like a stab to Matthew’s heart. As if the years Matthew has known Gilbert just got thrown away. As if Gilbert’s proposal, nothing. The day Matthew went all around Germany, speaking a language he had no clue how to really speak, all so he could find an official German craftsman to make a wedding band for Gilbert, with french engraves, like a piece of both of them. All those days, moments, laughs, kisses, everything, just… Gone. All of it thrown away over someone Matthew has never even met. Who, Gilbert is kissing. Right over the café table.

“Matt- Oh… Oh dear God.”

Francis’ words feel like the knife just got plunged into Matthew’s heart even deeper. Matthew wishes the knife is real, so he can just bleed out. Death by a broken heart. He wants to just cry. He is; crying.

“... May I?”

Matthew wipes a stray tear from his face so he can see Francis, who has his hand, palm up. Matthew is confused, what on earth could Francis need? Francis sighs, a sympathetic smile on his lips, he points to Matthew’s ring. Oh… Matthew looks down at his ring… He studies the red ruby held in with white diamond prongs. Matthew remembers how Gilbert said it’s a way to remember him. Just like how there’s an amethyst drilled into Gilbert’s. Matthew wonders if Gilbert even thought anything when he saw it. What if he thought nothing…?

“That was… Unnecessary… I must say, you’re quite a good kisser.”

Hearing that, seeing how beyond happy Gilbert is does something strange to Matthew’s heart. It breaks it into so many pieces. But… Gilbert looks like he’s enjoying himself; something he hasn’t been with Matthew in a while. Matthew feels so defeated. He knows that, even though he’s the one engaged to Gilbert, in the end, he’s the one who’s always at the other seat.

“What the putain is wrong with you?! Your fiancé is sitting right across from you, and you kiss someone! Tu répugnat porc!” (you disgusting pig)

Matthew didn’t realize that Francis stands up and is over at Gilbert’s table, yelling at him. Gilbert looks over to Matthew, his eyes widen in realization over what he just did. Maybe he regrets it…?

“M-Matthew!? Oh my God!”

Matthew is conflicted, he doesn’t know what he wants to do, he could listen to Gilbert, let him mend his heart. Which he might break again. Or, Matthew could just… Walk away…

“Wait!”

Oh. Well, Matthew tries to get up and leave, he would, if it isn’t for Gilbert’s hand clasping his wrist. Matthew can hardly look Gilbert in the eyes. It’s painful. Too painful.

“W-what can you… P-possibly say, Gilbert…?”

His whole name feels sour on Matthew’s tongue. Is this what he’s fated to? To be on the side? Just within touching distance of happiness, only for it to be whisked away from his hands.

“I… I don’t… I don’t know.”

Neither does Matthew.

\------------  
Headaches  
\------------

Tino heaves a sigh, popping the top of an Advil container, plopping four into his hand. Tino knows he’s having way too many of these painkillers; he’s already downed twelve. Making it sixteen won’t hurt anyone. Even still, the headaches he’s having won’t cease.

“Tino… That ain’t good for ya…”

Tino is distracted, having shifted through paper after paper, having the one thing they’ve worked their entire officer careers for, just… Gone. Tino doesn’t find it fair in the slightest, then, the one person new to the scene just mysteriously disappeared. Even the few articles that they saved, copies of a few things, all of it, gone. Tino literally feels like he’s coming unhinged. There isn’t any other way to describe it.

“Huh? Yeah… I know?”

The reply is distracted, he knows it is. Tino didn’t really catch what Berwald said in the first place. 

“Yo guys! I brought coffee!”

“Oh my God... Shut up you’re so loud.”

Tino jumped up in his seat, his back turned to the door so he didn’t know Matthias of Lukas came into the room. He knows he’s extra jumpy. He knows there are many people who haven’t slept today. Or the day prior. Or even the day before that. Tino knows he has deep, purple bags under his eyes.

“Tino… Ya okay?”

Tino jumps again, he turns around, a shaky, rather fake smile on him.

“Woah! Man, you look awful!- Ow!”

“That’s insensitive, idiot.”

“Hey! Norge stop being so meannnnn!”

Tino knows he looks awful. Hence exactly what Matthias said, it makes sense. Tino doesn’t miss the very worried look through Berwald’s glasses. Which makes Tino feel guilty. He doesn’t want to worry Berwald, or anyone, especially not Berwald though.

“I… I’m fine guys, really…”

Tino knows that isn’t true. He knows for a fact he isn’t fine. He won’t lie that he sees little wisps of light in the corners of his eyes. He won’t lie that he hears small voices in his ears. Tino’s sure that he’s going beyond crazy at this point. He knows it.

“Tino…Ya need sa’ sleep.”

“No- No I’m fine, really…!”

“Ya said it twice…”

Tino feels like he’s being caught in a lie. He is, he just doesn’t want to admit it. There’s so many different things going on in his mind, which is very frazzled. All he can really think about is this job. What he should do. What he wasn’t able to do. How he essentially failed everyone.

“Dude- Tino you need sleep! You look dead- Ow! Norge stooooop! I’m gonna have a bruise!”

“Good.”

“Wha- I’m so unloved! You bully!”  
“Be quiet, idiot. That isn’t true.”

Yet again, Tino knows that Matthias is right. Still, dead?! That isn’t exactly a great adjective describing someones’ looks. Tino knows it is most likely true, he doesn’t enjoy being called that. In any circumstance, really. The whips of light in the corner of Tinos’ eyes look odd. Or, stranger than before. They look… Green. Unlike how Tino is sure they looked a moment ago; hot white, like a blinding light source. Now, it’s an odd sickly green. Which in turn, makes Tino feel rather sick. The little forms of green turn circular, which each of the shapes start gaining… Facial features?! 

“... Tino!”

For what seems the millionth time, Tino jolts, rather violently. He must have spaced out when he started seeing the green face shapes. Since Berwald’s hands are on his shoulders, shaking him lightly. Tino knows how he really, really needs sleep. He feels as though he’s on air, with Berwald shaking him. Maybe he really should sleep. The weird green heads make faces at him, as if they’re mocking him. Staring him down. Maybe he can just…

“We’ve got a shooting down on East Southbird avenue. We need all officers on active duty in the Eastern Department!”

Great… Just great…

“Oh, shit! Wait! Where’s my stupid gun!?”

“Check your holster… Fool.”

“Ohhhh. Right. Thanks Norgeee!”

“Okay well, we’ll be out, getting readyyy! Bye!”

Tino doesn’t really make a sign of hearing Matthias or Lukas. The action does click in his head when he hears the door shut. He can guess that’s the other two leaving since Berwald is still on his knees in front of Tino, hands still on his shoulder.

“Tino… Are ya okay…?”

There is something different about how Berwald asks this time. It seems so sweet. Which isn’t rare for Berwald, it’s just rare to actually hear the concern in his voice. Or, it could just be Tino’s mind playing tricks on him. 

“Y-yeah. I’m okay, Ber. I can do this.”

Tino knows his voice doesn’t seem sound. He knows it sounds shaky. Enough so that it doesn’t look like it convinces Berwald. At all. Still, Berwald can try, he won’t stop Tino from doing his job. Well… Tino knows that Berwald actually can stop him.

“Tino…”

“Come on… We have to go, anyway.”

Berwald moves his hands off Tino’s shoulders, which, as Tino can see, Berwald doesn’t want to. Tino knows that. Tino already has his uniform on, he knows Berwald does too. Thankfully, he isn’t blind. Yet. Tino walks out of their office, he sees Matthias and Lukas getting into a squad car. Tino knows he will not be able to drive in the delirious state he’s in. 

“You- Please tell me you’ll drive?”

Tino meant to sound confidant, he wanted to, he ended up sounding small, weak. Berwald nods, an unreadable expression on his face. Which always drives Tino nuts, he wants to know what Berwald is thinking. Yes, he does know that sounds odd.

“These people are heavily guarded! They have multiple rounds- AUGH!”

Tino hears the receiver going off, then abruptly being cut short. The receiver going off deeply disturbes Tino, that officer… Did they just die?

“Ya sure…? Sure ya wanna go…?”

Tino looks up from his receiver, looking at Berwald, the same tone in his voice from earlier. A very small part of Tino wants to say that no he isn’t. Not at all. Still, that part of him is small, far too small. Easily overpowered by the rest of his drive to get whoever is trying to kill needs to be stopped. Which is Tino’s job. Yes, his focus is much more on a specific case that doesn’t really legally exist anymore. Or, does it even exist physically. 

How does Tino answer Berwald’s question? He climbs into the passenger seat of the squad car. Berwald takes a moment, he looks at Tino through the car windshield. When he realizes that Tino isn’t getting out of the car, Berwald gets into the car. He waits a few more seconds, which do seem like hours, Berwald finally starts the car. 

The yellow pinpoint appears on the minimap on the police car dashboard. An odd memory appears in Tino’s mind, he and Berwald’s first ever mission as officers. Tino remembers how he commented that the yellow destination mark looks like something similar to a video game. Even now, seven years later, Tino thinks the same.

The drive feels like ages. He knows Berwald turned on the siren, he knows the car is going at a fast speed to a destination that’s relatively close to the department. He hears the same whispers, which is louder than before. The words are unintelligible. It unnerves Tino, he knows how a good night’s sleep will most certainly help him. Still, the car is moving fast. Tino can even faintly hear the gunfire. Which he knows is not friendly. It's an enemy. The bullets sound different.

Berwald parks at a far distance from where the other officers are. He can see Lukas’ and Matthias’ car a few feet away. Tino can tell since the car has a comedically romantic decal on the fender. Both Berwald and Tino get out of the squad car. Tino switches to auto-pilot, that is miraculously working still. He has both hands on his gun, partially raised to his hip. He remembers, being top of his class in aiming and firing. It’s the one of the things he prides himself on. Hopefully, when he’s half conscious with three days of sleep deprivation, his aiming will work. He can fire a gun. He can do this, he can…

A person leaps in front of him, a hand-made gun in their hands. Tino raises his gun in retaliation. He can’t even feel his fingers. His eyelids feel beyond heavy… Like lead… Maybe he can close them for just a second…

“Tino!”

\-------------------  
Confusing Things  
\-------------------

Feliks is in disbelief, it’s been a good day and a half since Toris completely forgot who he is, where he is, almost everything about himself, and Feliks. It’s horrifying to him, Toris gets this odd thing pokes through his even stranger glowing vein. Feliks doesn’t know what happened to Toris while he was at that… Cult. Sometimes, hearing Toris actually scream in his sleep late at night, which always wakes Feliks up. It makes him not even want to ask what happened. Then again, it’s not like Feliks can get an answer anymore. All Toris really knows is his own name. The doctors, yet again, have no clue what to do. Feliks knows after all this blows over, both Feliks and Toris are moving somewhere less… Insane. Something like Switzerland, that’s a fantastic idea.

“So… I’m at a hospital… Why?”

“Weeeeeeeeeell… Like- I really don’t know, Tori! You looked like uh… You had an alien!”

“A-alien…? What- what’s that?”

“Ah- wha- uh… It’s like a thing that isn’t a person. Or animals…”

“Oh…”

It worries Feliks that there’s so much Toris doesn’t remember. It’s so disturbing to him. The doctors sometimes say that Toris will recover in a few days, or weeks. Sometimes they say he’ll never get better. Feliks refuses to believe that Toris won’t ever remember him. Feliks knows whatever happened to Toris must be something so awful… So cruel… It breaks Feliks’ heart. He tries to think of anything to remind Toris of anything, really. Feliks doesn’t bring up anything about Toris’ job choice. He usually doesn’t talk about movies or really anything movie related. Which, before all Hell broke loose when Toris took that job, movies were the main topic Feliks and Toris always talked about. They would sit together for hours, binge watching movies from almost every era since the time of films even become invented. Things for 1890s, 1900, 1910s… So on and so forth. The weekday movies became a part of their daily ritual. So, not speaking about such a thing that’s as average as brushing his teeth, it’s a little difficult.

“Tori? Do you remember your favorite color…?”

“No… But… I think I remember yours?”

“You- you do?! Really!”

“It’s… Green?”

Feliks doesn’t know how to really react. Green, light green, specifically, is Tori’s favorite color. So, he sort of knows it. Feliks is wearing a bright pink sweatshirt at the moment, still, he knows this is very hard for Tori. Feliks can’t blame him.

“Welllll… Tori, you’re kinda right. I remember you telling me green is yours. Do you still like- like green?”

“Uh… I think so? Maybe like a lighter green… L-like your eyes, I think…”

Feliks smiles brightly, that’s the truth. Well, that’s what Toris said in the past. That’s something that gives Feliks so much hope; meaning there has to be a chance that Toris will remember something, anything. 

“Yes! You- you totally said that in the past! Toriiiii! You remember something”

“Really…? That’s good, right?”

“Pfft-! Yessss! O-m-g yes!”

Toris smiles, which is a wonderful thing in Feliks’ mind. It’s been such a long time since Toris smiled. It used to be something that was so regular, Feliks realizes that he takes things such as smiling for granted. Now, Feliks knows he can’t take things like that for granted, it’s so precious, almost like a rare gem nowadays.

“Ahem… Excuse me, may you please leave the room now? We need to begin testing. Afterwards, we’ll call you in.”

Feliks obviously didn’t hear the doctor walk into the room; distracted over Toris’ smile. Nonetheless, Feliks gets up, waving at Toris as he walks away.

“Bye… Fel… F-Feliks!?”

That stops Feliks in his tracks, literally. He stops moving, mid-step out the door. Did… Did Toris just say his name!?

“Y-yes oh my-!”

Feliks’ words cut short, when he turns around, realizing the door already shut. He sighs in defeat, yet, extremely happy. Toris just spoke his name! His actual name! Not Fin, Flynn, Ford, or the one Feliks hates the most… Felipe. This time, Toris said his actual name! That’s the biggest best step so far. 

Feliks knows that it’s going to take awhile for the tests to be over, it takes a long time, so he decides to take a tour of the hospital. He walks straight into the small food court. He remembers people saying this hospital is among some of the best in the country. The food court certainly says otherwise; it looks almost… Gross. It doesn’t smell like a hospital there. Or even food. Just a strange, almost dusty smell to him. There’s a ton of tables though, so many that they are going into the main lobby. Another thing strikes Feliks as odd, is how the tables are chock full of people. Every table has about six or so seats per table, there’s a grand total of somewhere between thirty tables. That’s one hundred and eighty people in just one single spot in a hospital. They all look like pedestrians. Which makes Feliks wonder if there are more tables and chairs in the hospital? Good grief that’s a lot of people.

“Why, greetings there. You seem as though we’ve met before. We must have a common acquaintance.”

Feliks, yet again, not paying attention, flips his head so fast he almost goes face first into someone’s chest. Which is something very, very odd to Feliks. He looks up, to see leering, narrowed eyes. Feliks knows he’s in a hospital, surrounded by hundreds of people to witness whatever can happen. Still, Feliks feels a sense of fear for himself when he sees the light brown eyes. It’s unnerving, Feliks doesn’t even know this man, yet when he sees this man’s eyes, he sees something dark… Evil.

“Uh… Huh?”

“You just seem as familiar to me as some I’ve seen before. Ah, yes. A picture, I suppose. Of… as I recall, you and another male. Whom’s name I sadly hath forgotten, a little bird rang in my ear, telling me said male resides here after an unfortunate event.”  
Feliks feels odd, as if he’s traveled back in time to a sooner era, there’s a familiar look to the man, as if Feliks saw…

Holy. It’s Marrakesh from PeachTree Studio!

Still, a famous director who both Feliks and Toris idolize for breaking the mold on taboo subjects in film. Still, ever since Toris went to the director’s studio, he got involved in that cult… The thought is disturbing to Feliks. Especially seeing the almost criminal looking edge to the man’s eyes. It seems different from interviews…

“Uh-... I don’t… I don’t know what you mean…”

If Feliks already feels disturbed, the man makes it so much worse. He smiles. The smile seems, yet again, sinister. As if something Feliks said was hilarious or just set off some sort of memory? Either way, Feliks really wants to leave, he wants to get back to Toris… Now.

“Oh? Is that so? I hardly think that’s the truth, you see, I know everything about my newest recruits. It’s simply a habit of mine, since one has no clue when things might happen to go astray. Now, is certainly one of those times. Let’s see… Oh, one of my newer puppets to my stage, yes, if I do recall correctly, his name is Toris? Isn’t it?”

For the second time, Feliks freezes, a picture is painting itself in Feliks’ mind. This man… He does know about that cult. He has to be the one who created it… He’s the one who… Made Toris forget everything…

“That- That’s none of your business!”

“Oh? Well, I wasn’t here to ask for your consent, I most definitely do not need it. He’s been under my care since the beginning. I own this hospital.”

“S-so what!? I- I can get him out a-anytime!”

“Is that so? Good luck retrieving him. I assure you, he’s in a place you shall not find until I unveil the place myself.”

Feliks’ jaw drops. He runs, actually runs back to Toris’ room. The run to his room isn’t far… A few feet and…

Gone.


	6. Chapter 6

\----------  
Prison…?  
Chapter Five  
\--------------

In the day and a half Alfred’s been in this hellhole, he’s   
noticing a few things within almost every hour.

The people here are beyond insane. Insane like, Alfred can hear in some other room that someone is crying over losing a piece of cake. He doesn’t know where the hell he is or what he is meant to do here. Oh yes, he also gets a slap to his face almost every hour. Alfred is almost a hundred percent sure there’s a large welt on his face by now. He can’t tell since the place he’s in is practically pitch black. Yet another odd thing he’s noticing, he can actually see. He knows he’s wearing glasses now, not his since the strength is much weaker than his usual. Though, at least he can actually faintly see, unlike the past day of his life where we couldn’t see a thing except a blurry haze. 

Pain is one of the main things on his mind. He can hardly even walk; he knows he doesn’t have any spine damage or anything. All he really knows is that something had to have happened when he got rammed with that car. He knows it’s something with his head, since some memories and little things seem fuzzy, as if he’s forgetting the memory but he’s sure it just happened.

Yet another thing on his mind, Arthur. How Alfred lies to Arthur on the phone, the reason? The cool metal nozzle of a XVR 460 Magnum revolver being put directly into Alfred’s temple is definitely not something that will make him honest. Yet, Alfred could hear the rising panic in Arthur’s voice. Which, the second the revolver tip was removed from his skull, Alfred tried to get out the address of where he is. Well, he tried to, until the gun smacked him hard in the face, which smashed the phone to bits. Whoever that guy that’s been hitting him in the face for the past few hours must be ridiculously stupid. Alfred can hear the person walk by wherever he is, speaking very loudly into a phone about ‘Lima Lane East Street’ or something like that. Either the guy isn’t too bright. Or, the whole thing is a deception and Alfred is somewhere in Antarctica. The thought of that is something Alfred definitely doesn’t want to think about. If he really is off somewhere, in an entire different continent, he isn’t sure he could leave this place, even if he tries. Never once did Alfred ever pay attention during geography and history class. Alfred wishes he actually paid attention to when his teacher would talk about languages in those areas. 

The door to Alfred's apparent prison cell slowly opens, it creaks and groans, as if it is rarely opened. Maybe people never went into this room, never until Alfred somehow got here. Which he still has no clue when or how, or even why. Alfred squints his eyes, the bright light from whatever type of room outside shines in his face. Alfred isn’t really keeping track of time, all he knows right now is it’s been approximately an hour. What’s going to happen this time?

“Close that fucking door, Maria! I don’t want the damn scum getting out of the cage!”

Alfred recognizes that voice, the person talking sounds exactly like the man who comes in every hour. Alfred frowns, he doesn’t agree with being called scum. He knows the words are directed at him, since the cell door gets slammed shut the second it happens.

“But sir! The boss keeps asking for him. We can’t just go and ignore his orders! We’ll be dead-”

“WHAT!? Are you serious!? The boss already asked!? Shit! Okay, get it the hell out of there, NOW Maria! God-dammit hurry the hell up!”

Alfred is confused, he doesn’t have a clue as to what’s going on. The door is flung back open, the light fully illuminating the whole room so Alfred is finally able to get a good look at his surroundings. The place is hideous, the walls are pure iron or some sort of metal looking like that, they look cold, similar to a mental facility. The floors are made of stone, cracking in almost every place. Alfred feels a sense of dread about this, he is already feeling that ever since he woke up, still, seeing what this place looks like formally scares Alfred. Is he meant to be here? Did someone go on and put him in an asylum? Without Alfred even knowing? If that is the case, then why would Arthur call, who sounded absolutely terrified over the phone. Alfred knows Arthur isn’t a wonderful actor, so he’s almost sure that Arthur isn’t faking it. Why would he in the first place anyhow? It makes so sense, so maybe someone else got him here? Does his family not know about it…?

Alfred’s thoughts are cut short when he sees whoever ‘Maria’ is, walk into his ‘cell’. Since the only light source is from the room that the lady came into, Alfred can’t see any of her features. He doesn’t know if that’s on purpose or not. The closer she steps towards him, Alfred scootches back, he can’t stand since he has steel leg cuffs that are probably cutting off the circulation to his ankles. He isn’t scared of her, well.. Okay, he is. He’s the one who’s in cuffs, he feels disoriented, he knows he had some form of surgery. Since he remembers a few things from after he got dozed over by that car. One of which was some doctor putting a mask over his mouth, Alfred can guess it was some form of anesthesia. That, and Arthur sobbing. That’s all Alfred remembers after he got hit. So, he really doesn’t know what happened to him. Now, he’s in some crazy asylum with people he knows are utterly insane. Alfred knows he isn’t crazy. Right?

“Maria! Hurry the hell up- Oh for god’s sake I’ll do it myself, out of the way!”

The lady jumps away from the door, making way for the guy who’s yelling his head off. Hearing this guy’s panic is freaking Alfred out, he doesn’t know what’s going on or why he’s so freaked out that this ‘boss’ will be upset. Alfred feels almost like he’s in one of those old mafia movies based on things happening in Italy. Alfred always loves watching those movies. Watching, and acting are things Alfred is perfectly fine with. Actually experiencing a stressful situation such as this is something Alfred does not want to experience. 

The guy comes stopping towards Alfred, which makes Alfred panic internally, he is getting really, really scared. He doesn’t know what to do. This time there isn’t a script for Alfred to follow, word for word. He doesn’t have actions to follow to push the story further in his favor, no, this time he can only rely on himself. Which isn’t something Alfred is sure he can really do. He doesn’t know these people, he knows a bit of what one is capable of, slapping can lead to so, so much more, Alfred knows this for a fact.

The man grabs Alfred by the collar, pulling him up off the floor by about two feet. Alfred can’t breathe, his shirt collar is bunched up by his neck, being pulled together tightly, then held off the ground, it’s constricting Alfred’s airway. He’s trying not to panic, he doesn’t want it to show on his face that he’s scared in the slightest. He doesn’t know what this guy can do to him. Again, Alfred doesn’t know the plot of this story, he’s going in blind. Alfred knows he shouldn’t think about this like a movie, it might cost him his life. A thing Alfred is also not trying to think about is how he still can’t breathe. 

“Cyrus… I don’t think the guy can breathe… He looks blue.”

“Shut the hell up, Maria! I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Alfred isn’t so sure about the man’s words, thankfully, he listens to ‘Maria’s’ words, so he drops Alfred face first on the floor. Pain explodes up his entire body. Alfred doesn’t understand why though, he was lifted about two feet off the ground. Alfred frowns when he turns his head to the side where he notices two things, one, the cracked. Thankfully though, Alfred can still see. The other thing he notices is a small puddle of blood from where he got tossed down to the ground. Seeing the blood that most likely came from his head is horrifying. Now Alfred is scared. How on earth is he bleeding after falling bluntly point blank? Alfred isn’t even sure that’s possible. Yet, here he is, making the impossible, possible.

“Cyrus! Don’t you have any care for human life!? The boss wants him alive! Not half dead, bleeding from the brain, you idiot!”

“Maria I swear to God haven’t we gone over this?! I don’t need you hounding me! You’re here since the boss has no other place for you. So shut the hell up!”

Alfred doesn’t have time to think, since he is being pulled up again by his shirt collar. Alfred doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels self-conscious, he is not small, he towers over almost everyone he knows. So, being picked up like a doll, as if he’s nothing, it’s an odd thought to Alfred.

The man drags him down a long stony hall, this time Alfred can breathe so he’s able to take notice of the decoration on the wall. Or lack thereof. There’s a single plack on one of the walls in the centre of the hallway. Alfred isn’t able to see very well since his glasses aren’t really his, his head is throbbing as well so reading really isn’t something he can do at the moment. The only thing he can tell is that it’s in Russian. A language Alfred can’t speak or read. Heck, he doesn’t know a word of it. Yet another reminder of how Alfred should have paid attention during his classes. 

The monochrome gray cracking floors end right after the hallway. Instead of the sad colors, there’s a bright red rug that covers almost all the floor, except the small bit of some type of wood showing where the rug can’t cover. It freaks Alfred out. He isn’t sure why it does though.

The guy dragging Alfred flings open these humongous double doors. They look ominous. Very tall, engraved with some odd designs. Alfred is able to tell what one is for sure, a skull. It really is starting to seem like a movie set Alfred is on. Just where his fellow actors are taking this extremely seriously.

“Boss! We’re here-”

“What took you so long!?”

Alfred can’t believe it. He is in disbelief. The person sitting at the desk, in the most mafia movie-esque type way is his own boss. The man Alfred admires since he started watching movies. One of his favorite movies of all time is Rituals. He remembers exactly how the movie goes, an aspiring photographer gets hired by one of the most renowned studios of all time. The girl gets kidnapped during her first photo shoot on the job. She’s taken to an underground cellar. The place is full of cultist leaders, all of which need a new ‘host’ for some demon of theirs. The girl gets tortured continuously by the leaders. Some of her own fingers are cut and fed to her. She got her feet smashed in by a huge boulder. By the end, she begs for the demon to enter her. Alfred remembers that movie well. Yes, it’s extremely disturbing, yet, it does have some sentimental value to him. Along with the movie being fantastic. That movie is the first one that Alfred saw with Arthur. He remembers that Arthur hates that movie. Since he was a photographer himself and found some way to criticize the movie every chance he could get. It was a great day back then. So, it’s just more horrifying that the original director of it has Alfred at some creepy asylum.

“S-sorry, sir! We just had so many other people here that we took a bit around the cycle to get him!”

“Ugh… You people are beyond hopeless why I hired you nincompoops in the first place is beyond my understanding.”

Alfred really doesn’t know what to think. Maybe Marrakesh will just apologize, saying this is some huge misunderstanding. That is what Alfred truly hopes is the case. It doesn’t make much sense otherwise, Marrakesh is a director, why on earth would he want to do something crazy to his own actors…? Right?

“We’ll leave you now, sir.”

The two who served as Alfred’s escorts leave the room, the huge doors closing behind them. A very scary thought goes through Alfred’s mind. If he were to scream, nobody could hear him. Alfred usually isn’t scared, there are a few times he can count on his hand. Actual, life-threatening fear for his life.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to formally meet you, Jones. You see, I run a business here, a business that thrives on multiple factors. You are most certainly one of my key pieces to this working machine. You see, I must also make sure none of my cogs go awry, one single tick out of rhythm can destroy all the hard work the other cogs strive for.”

Alfred feels a cold chill send down his spine. Not many people have called him by his last name. It’s usually a jab to Alfred over his… Father. Still, the way Marrakesh is speaking makes Alfred feel like he is doing something wrong, even though he hasn’t spoken a single line yet.

“Am- Am I doing something wrong…?”

Marrakesh laughs. Which greatly disturbs Alfred; for the millionth time today, he isn’t quite sure why.

“Oh goodness no! You are my star, the shining vision for all to see. I knew the second I laid eyes on you at a film festival, you will be my star. The one who steals the show.”

Alfred knows he should feel honoured, under almost any other circumstance, he would. Except, these words feel strange to Alfred. Almost like how someone sounds in movies who can barely hold themselves together from doing something awful. Alfred hates that’s the vibe he’s getting from Marrakesh now.

“I… Huh…?”

“Why, yes. That’s why the moment the credits laid their last, I called up the studio, demanding for your whereabouts. I became giddy when I discovered you’re looking for a new project, so I hired you immediately. I know that you’ll look great as the centre of my masterpiece.”

Now, Alfred is really getting scared, he doesn’t want to show it. Since yes, this is an honor. This is something Alfred should be so excited about, he should be jumping around for joy that a dream director hires him in a new studio. Yet again, the words seem scary to Alfred. He wants to turn tail and just run. He wants to just leave this terrifying building.

“-Of course, I know you have family and friends you must entertain. But, I know I need them much more than you do. Apparently, they certainly don’t need you. Your own kin signed you over to me. It did take some eloquent wording, might I add.”

Wha-huh…? Matthew signed Alfred… Over to him? What is that even supposed to mean? What’s going on…?

“Uhm… Sir? What do ya’ mean…?”

Alfred curses himself, hearing his stress-induced southern accent coming out. That means he really is panicking. Is he not going to be able to see Arthur or Matthew, or anyone for that matter?

“Why, yes, look no further than here.”

Marrakesh tosses a piece of paper at Alfred, which he can’t really do anything since his hands are cuffed too. The paper lands face up so Alfred can read what’s on it. Lo and behold, Marrakesh is correct, the paper is deceiving. Where it says things such as physical therapy and… A lawyer? Why would Alfred even need a lawyer?

“But I-... I…”

Alfred is trying to speak, he’s trying very hard too, except he can’t, since a mask, one that looks eerily familiar to the one that put him under- Oh my god.

\---------  
Hopeless  
\---------

Out of all the ways Ludwig thought about telling everyone the truth, the way it came out is certainly not how he ever imagined it. Yes, he knows that it wouldn’t have gone according to his plan, most likely. Still, he wasn’t expecting to go face to face with his worst nightmare; where he loses without the nightmare even getting hit once. Ludwig doesn’t know what he really would be able to do in that situation again. He made sure not to make eye contact with anyone so thankfully that isn’t replaying in his mind. 

Still, here he is, back where he started. At the bar, with a beer, or two, or three as his company. Ludwig doesn’t even know where to go from here. There isn’t exactly anywhere he can go from here. He’s lost everything. This time, he isn’t sure he can get anything back. Nothing can really compare to what he just lost. He hates the job he has, well, the one he lied to everyone about. He hates hurting people in such a cruel way. It didn’t hurt Ludwig as much during his time as a soldier; since the enemy also owned weapons. The one reason he even keeps the awful job he has is how high the pay is. Now, Ludwig doesn’t have a reason to continue doing said job, he now has no-one. Ludwig doesn’t want to think about it, not what he lost. He doesn’t have anything; anyone anymore. Ludwig knows he can’t go back, not to his brother, not to see the disappointed look on his face. Or Feliciano, who might even forgive Ludwig so fast once he understands his reasons. Ludwig can’t go back just because of that, he doesn’t think he deserves anyone’s forgiveness. Especially Feliciano’s. 

“Oh my God… Do you know who that is?! That’s Das Golden Adler!”

Ludwig hears a whisper right next to him, the German words really catch his ears. Golden Eagle? Who the hell is that…? Ludwig looks over to see who said the words and finds two people staring directly at him. 

“Holy woah… You’re so right! That is him!”

Are these people… Talking about him? It makes Ludwig feel uncomfortable, why on earth is he being called the golden eagle? Is something going on that he doesn’t know? In his own life?

“Hey, maybe I should ask him to take out that psycho girlfriend of yours!”

“Hahh!? No way, she’s made of steel! She laughed when I slammed her head with a bat!”

Ludwig cringes, he knows what these people mean now. Oh… That’s his own name. Why? How does he remind people of a golden eagle? That is ironic to him; if anything, he should be something dealing with darkness. Since that’s what he does, snuffing out the light, the lives of someone. It just doesn’t sound right, the golden eagle is a staple point of Germany back when Ludwig lived there, it’s a sacred bird. So much so it’s the country’s national bird. Ludwig feels like he’s disrespecting his country with such a nickname. He’s never been called that and hasn’t even heard of that name for him before. It just feels wrong to him. 

Ring-a-ling! Ring ring ring! Ring-a-ling!

Ludwig jumps in his seat, he completely forgot his phone is in his pocket. He fishes it out, a lump forms in his throat when he reads the caller ID:

Feli.

Ludwig is panicking, he doesn’t know what to do, should he answer? Should he not answer? If he does, and he decides to stop torturing himself and just tell Feliciano the truth, will he forgive him? Ludwig knows he will, which is why he doesn’t want to answer the phone. He doesn’t want forgiveness, what he’s done to so many families is unforgivable. Still, Ludwig is a selfish man, he wants to just hear Feliciano say anything. Ludwig misses that voice so much it genuinely hurts. So, he answers.

“Feli… Listen I-”

“Luddy! Oh my God I was so worried! I got so scared, I thought you were gone and weren’t coming back… But you answered my call! Or… One of them.”

Ludwig’s heart hurts. It actually hurts. He doesn’t want Feliciano to just ignore what happened a few hours ago, he wants to talk about it. He wants to explain what’s going on and most importantly, why. 

“But… You- you know what happened I-”

“Well, yeah but… I know you have your reasons! I’ll help you however I can! I want to help!”

Ludwig feels so guilty, he knows this isn’t right. It’s unfair to everyone except him. All the people who suffered and still suffer so much from Ludwig’s actions get no justice and yet here Ludwig is, getting something, no, someone he knows he doesn't deserve.

“Feli, please… What I’ve done- what I’m doing is wrong… I- I’ve killed so many people, before they could even get a word in. I’m- I’m so sorry…”

The silence on Feliciano’s side is unbearable to Ludwig, he knows what he just said is the truth. The painful side of the truth. He wishes it’s all just some cruel joke he’s playing on everyone. That’s what Ludwig wishes his own job choice is; a joke. After all, it almost is, how he’s lying to everyone just so they don’t shun him is ironic in its own special way. A ridiculous inside joke Ludwig is playing on himself and only himself.

“I know… It is- t-terrible what’s happened but… I know you wouldn’t just hurt people without a reason! That makes no sense… Right…? You- you wouldn’t…”

Ludwig is conflicted, he knows he needs to tell the whole truth to Feliciano. He knows he needs to, quickly for that matter; or Feli might have such a horrified, twisted view of Ludwig. Ludwig thinks being labeled as a cold-hearted killer works perfectly for him. Even if it is and isn’t the truth.

“No… I- I did it for you Feli…”

Shit. What the hell did he just say? How many beers has he drank? Ludwig looks at the bar table and gulps, that’s a good ten cups of pure gold, hypothetically. Ludwig is by no means lightweight. One of his very best friends is the bar. Still, he can’t believe he just said that. Out loud. To Feliciano. Ludwig wanted to tell him that in person, to talk over it like normal adults. Not his half-drunk rambles.

“Wha- huh!? What… What are you talking about…?”

Ludwig exhales, this is going to be a long conversation. He stands up, digs around his pockets for a twenty dollar bill and a few fives. He gives it to the bartender; it’s an actual struggle for Ludwig to get away from the bar. Both physically and emotionally. Thankfully, Ludwig is able to pull himself out the doors. Which is a relief, so much so that he leans against the faux stone walls. It makes a great cushion for Ludwig. Definitely not for his words though.

“Okay… Well at one point, I really did have a job as a food truck worker. It’s just… The pay was really, really low. It was back when… Back when you had a job. I knew then we didn’t have a bunch of cash for really anything. Then… Then you got hit… I knew we wouldn’t have anything to pay for it… So, I found someone who wanted someone else dead. I kill- killed them and it’s been the only way to pay for anything since…”

Oh my god… Ludwig can’t believe what he just said, his words don’t sound sloppy, he isn’t slurring. He’s just being so rude. It sounds like he’s blaming Feliciano for what’s going on. It is not his fault; at all. Ludwig remembers when Feliciano called him a ‘funny drunk’. Ludwig is almost sure he won’t be called that again.

“It- this… This is my fault…? I’m so sorry I- I didn’t know I caused this…!”

Oh no… This can’t be happening. Feliciano is blaming himself and apologizing for it. Ludwig is in disbelief, the guilt is stabbing him, it feels almost literally.

“What- Huh!? No! I- I didn’t mean it to sound that way! No! Of- of course it isn’t your fault!”

Ludwig’s heart drops when he hears a sniff on the other line. Feliciano is crying. All because Ludwig can’t speak correctly. He is at a loss for words; at himself. Ludwig is furious at himself for making one of the only good things still somehow in his life cry. 

“N-no… Oh my god you’re right… It- it makes sense I-”

Fortunately and unfortunately, Feliciano cuts himself off. What he’s cut off by is an actual sob. The remainder of Ludwig’s heart just snaps in two at that point. He can’t believe this. He can’t believe himself for what he said. Why now, of all times, does he have to be so terrible at this language. Still, even if Ludwig decides to try to reiterate what he’s trying to say in German, he’ll most likely mess that up too.

“L-Luddy…? Where are you? Can- can we t-talk…?”

Feliciano’s plea sounds so much more heartbreaking with the sniffs in between almost every word. It would completely smash Ludwig’s heart, except it already is in pieces at this point.

“Of-”

Of course. That’s what Ludwig wants to say, it’s what he would have said if it isn’t for a familiar red lamborghini to pull up into the parking spot a few feet away from where Ludwig is. Ludwig swallows a lump in his throat when he sees who he knows would step out of that car.

Quishi Lee. The person who employed Ludwig. Also a very feared mafia leader of a very deadly group. Who Ludwig knows this man has been looking for him.

He hangs up the phone immediately.

\------------  
Conflicting  
\-----------

Lovino is irritated, he’s irritated at almost everything at the moment, his stuffy hospital room he heard he’s going to be confined to for a long time, something like three months or something so he can fully recover and go through some bullshit therapy. Lovino is also very irritated at these doctors who are acting like he’s a subject, not a human being. Which is very annoying. He has a name, goddammit. Yet another one of the things annoying Lovino on his long list of today, both his brother and boyfriend are crying. Lovino can hear his brother sobbing his eyes out in the other room, Lovino knows he can get himself out of bed to make sure that idiot is okay, sadly. Antonio on the other hand is trying a bit harder to hide the tears, which makes it look so much sadder with his silent crying. He won’t say anything about why he’s so upset to Lovino. Which annoys Lovino to the nth degree. 

So yes, today is a day of irritation, and unanswered questions. 

“H-hola mamá… Sí, yo estoy un poco cansado…” (Hello mama... Yes, I am a bit stressed...)

Lovino didn’t hear Antonio’s phone ring, meaning he really needs to pay more attention. Lovino is surprised, he thought Antonio didn’t really talk to his mom anymore.

“¡No, no! Yo estoy bien, yo hizo no obtener disparo… Mamá yo realmente hizo no deseo tú encima aquí… Por favor, mamá.” (No, no! I am fine, I did not get shot... Mama I really do not want you here... Please, mama.)

Another thing Lovino hates, almost every time Antonio talks to his mother. Lovino was there when Antonio’s mom kicked Antonio out because he’s ‘different’. Antonio still tries to keep in contact with his mother, it’s sad, really. There are times when Lovino just wants to throw Antonio’s phone out the window so he can just stop. The sigh Antonio gives after what Lovino can think is his mother yelling is heartbreaking. Antonio looks tired, Lovino knows he is, hell, even Lovino is feeling tired just seeing the state Antonio is in.

“Please… For the love of god, talk to your mother later. I need you right the hell now.”

Lovino knows how selfish he’s being. Still, he’s helping both himself and Antonio here, so Lovino won’t get a headache, and so Antonio won’t cry; again. Which is something Lovino didn’t want to happen in the first place.

Antonio looks up from the floor, an expression Lovino knows far too well on his face, gratitude.

“¿¡Quien la infierno es ese tú estén hablando a-?!” (Who the hell is that you're talking to?!)

Antonio ends the call before they both hear a long stream of profanities. It genuinely shatters Lovino’s heart that this happens to Antonio. The conversation usually starts normally, then some subject is brought up by his mother then it all goes straight to hell. Usually Lovino is nearby to hear the ongoing catastrophe. Every single time someone ends up crying. It’s a terrible ritual that Lovino wants to end.

“S-sorry, Love… She called me yesterday saying she saw it on the news… I don’t know how but she did. I just… I’m sorry.”

Lovino is, for the millionth time today, in disbelief with Antonio. How he manages to apologize for the simplest, most minute things and seem so ridiculously sincere is unbelievable to Lovino. It’s as if Antonio thinks Lovino might get mad at him for not apologizing a million times over every little thing. Which is so not true; what does irritate Lovino is Antonio apologizing. It makes absolutely no sense and Lovino is done with the apologies. Antonio has done nothing to merit an apology and Lovino will scream it from the top of buildings about it. Not really, still, maybe he might if it goes on any longer.

“You…?! I- are you kidding me!? The next time you fucking apologize to me, I will slap you in the face! I’m done!”

Okay… Maybe that’s a bit harsh, still, Lovino is tired of it all, he’s tired of hearing all the tears. He just wants some silence. Or at least an hour without someone bursting into tears. Especially someone that Lovino cares deeply about.

“I’m sor- wait no no! Love don’t smack me! I was gonna say I’m sore! Woe is my sore bleeding heart!”

Well… That mood changed rather quickly. This tends to happen a lot during some moments during the day. Lovino knows Antonio is just putting on a brave face. Stupid idiot… It drives Lovino nuts. He’s sick and tired of seeing fake smiles and faulty laughs really drive Lovino insane. Is it that hard just to say how you’re feeling? Lovino certainly doesn’t think so. Still, it hurts him in a way, knowing that Antonio won’t tell him why or what’s going on.

“Please Antonio. What’s going on? You’re scaring me… Please, just tell me what’s wrong. Don’t I deserve to know the truth? I care so fucking much about you, what the hell is so secretive that you’ll keep it from even me!?”

Lovino didn’t look at Antonio while speaking, he’ll admit it, he’s afraid of what Antonio might say. Lovino already got one of the most horrifying shocks of his entire life when he and Antonio went to the police office. Hearing what Antonio said then made Lovino go cry in the bathroom. He knows it’s pathetic, still, he can’t imagine the hell Antonio went through and doesn’t ever want to hear about it again. 

Lovino, once again, is shocked out of his thoughts by a sniffle, a familiar sniff Lovino did not want to hear. Ever again. Lovino looks up to face Antonio, he doesn’t want to and seeing Antonio’s face solidifies Lovino’s thought. Red faced and teary-eyed is Antonio at the moment, Lovino isn’t sure when it started, though just that Antonio is near crying scares Lovino. Yes, he wants to know what’s going on, he just isn’t sure he’ll be able to really handle it.

“No… It isn’t a secret… It- it’s just I- I think I saw someone…”

Lovino is both relieved and anxious. Thankfully Antonio didn’t mean what… Happened to him. Lovino isn’t sure he would be able to bear it. Still, he’s anxious over what Antonio can say. What does he mean by he thinks he saw someone? Who? Why does it matter? What the fuck is going on?!

“You saw someone? Who…?”

Antonio takes a long pause, which is honestly terrifying to Lovino, he doesn’t know much about anyone’s situations right now. Lovino wants to know all about what’s going on, then again, there are a lot of times he doesn’t want to know. He’s scared to know the truth. 

“Well… I- I just… I’m not sure but I just… I think it’s… Him…” 

Holy shit. Wait… Him as in… That him!? The… man who ruined Antonio’s life? Why… Why the hell would that… thing be back?!

“Wha- what!? What do you mean…!? How do you know?”

By the look Antonio is giving Lovino, he feels like he’s overreacting, as if Antonio stubbed his toe and Lovino acts like it’s a fracture. Except, this is a very real issue that either Antonio is trying to downplay, which he is failing miserably since Antonio is trying to fight back tears; again failing as Lovino can see the tears rolling down his face. Or, Antonio just thought he saw that person, anyway, Lovino is freaking out. It scares him even more that Antonio is acting like it’s no big deal since it is a huge deal.

“It- It looked exactly like… him. He even… smiled at me… Love I- I’m so scared… What- what if… What if he tries to hurt you- oh my god…”

Lovino puts his hands under the thin hospital sheets so hopefully Antonio won’t see how badly his hands are shaking. Yes, Lovino isn’t just scared as hell for Antonio, he’s now a bit terrified for himself. Lovino knows it sounds selfish, which he is. Lovino almost leaps out of the sheets when he hears Antonio cry. It’s a sound Lovino hears a lot of recently, he hates it. He hates hearing people cry, especially Antonio. And his brother, who he can still hear crying in the other room. This is not a good day for Lovino. Or anyone for that matter.

“C-calm down! Nothing’s going to happen to me, idiot! Just please… Please don’t cry…”

Yet another day Lovino knows how desperate he’s being, he’s surprised he hasn’t driven Antonio out by how desperate Lovino really is. Lovino doesn’t want to admit it but he's terrified of being alone. Out of all the fears Lovino has, being the last person alive is the most scary. He couldn’t imagine it, not having anyone else by his side, where it’s just him and… Emptiness.

Lovino waits for a second, he waits until Antonio looks up for a split second so Lovino opens his arms, looking like he wants a hug; he does, now. Antonio gets up from the tiny hospital chair Lovino is sure that Antonio has been sitting in and hasn’t gotten up since the moment Lovino woke up. Antonio sits down on Lovino’s bedside, Antonio takes a second to stop sniffing, which isn’t what Lovino wants at all. So, he takes it upon himself, sure he almost rips a stitch trying to pull the damn Spaniard into his arms. Antonio practically falls into his arms like a ragdoll, which is disturbing to Lovino.

“Hey… Are you-”

Lovino is interrupted by a snore, not a loud one, just audible enough for someone to hear it. Lovino almost shakes Antonio, almost; until he sees Antonio’s face. That stops Lovino in his non-moving tracks. There’s a few tear streaks down his face, his cheeks flushed, the thing that almost makes Lovino just start sobbing is how Antonio is softly smiling. Just like he fell asleep the second Lovino pulled him down. Lovino sighs, grateful that Antonio will finally sleep after at least fourteen hours of not doing so. Lovino lays back down into his pillow, Antonio in tow. It may be just for ten minutes or even ten hours, still, this single moment is what Lovino can easily call…

Paradise. 

\-----------  
Stop Lying  
\-----------

It’s been a whole day since it happened. Gilbert doesn’t know why on earth he said it, why he decided to kiss someone who's practically a stranger to him. Gilbert can’t believe that he lied that no, he doesn’t have a fiance. Which is such a blatant lie. What horrifies Gilbert the most; is that Matthew had to see it, he had to hear it too. Matthew had to witness Gilbert’s betrayal. Gilbert knows he’s called about a million times, even though it’s something like forty-seven. Matthew hasn’t answered once, Gilbert can’t blame him. Even if Matthew did answer the phone, Gilbert wouldn’t know what to say. Sorry definitely won’t cut it this time. All it takes is a single traitorous trip to a cafe to ruin the two whole years it took to start dating, then even get engaged. Gilbert remembers how his brother told him he needs to take it slower, to slow down so he really knows that Matthew is the one. In truth, Gilbert still believes it’s true. Some people didn’t believe him then, they certainly won’t believe him now. Gilbert isn’t sure Matthew agrees anymore either. 

The phone rings in Gilbert’s ear for the forty-eighth time today. Gilbert knows he does need to go to work, sure he’s well off for a few months without working a day, still, he needs a distraction. A distraction that sadly works at Gilbert’s job. Gilbert knows that’s the last person he should be thinking about; Gilbert knows that. He still can’t help the thought of that Austrian running in his mind all day. Especially the thought of kissing him. The most traitorous kiss in Gilbert’s lifetime. Even though the kiss tasted different, it tasted passionate. Gilbert hates it keeps replaying in his mind, the whole scene and how it goes down. First the kiss, then someone Gilbert really doesn’t remember too well. Gilbert thinks it's someone Matthew’s brother knows or something, since that’s the only possible way Gilbert thinks he would know someone like that. Still, that person comes up to Gilbert, the second he commits that crime of disloyalty, telling him that Matthew saw and heard what happened. In that exact moment, Gilbert felt like the world started to spin upside-down on him. Like if he were to jump in that moment, gravity would no longer exist so he could touch the ceiling. Gilbert tried to stop Matthew from leaving, he failed. In truth, Gilbert didn’t know what to say. What could he even say in the first place? That he’s sorry? Gilbert doesn’t think any amounts of sorrys will really cut it. 

Gilbert knows he needs to stop trying to call Matthew. Or text him, or voicemail for that matter. Including all the texts all over all types of social media combined, Gilbert probably sent at least a grand total of two-hundred texts. It’s insane, Gilbert knows that. Still, he’s desperate in this situation. He doesn’t know what Matthew might or even can do to himself. That actually scares Gilbert, what might happen because of something stupid he did. When Gilbert thinks about something like that, it makes him want to go break down Matthew’s door. Yes, Gilbert knows he’s sounding obsessive, in some ways, at this moment, he is. 

When Gilbert came back to his house about a day ago, he’s noticing how empty it seems now. All Matthew’s stuff is still in the house, not a thing seems different. All except one thing, Matthew. It’s so quiet now that he’s not here. Gilbert knows he’s definitely underestimated how scary silence is. Usually Gilbert is never alone, just something that he isn’t used to. When his mother passed away, he had his father and brother. Then, both he and his brother moved out of Germany for a different career and for a few relationships. Now, Ludwig most likely isn’t coming back after his horrifying truth became revealed there for everyone to know. After that, Gilbert loses Matthew due to his own stupid descions. Gilbert isn’t sure if he really has permanently lost Matthew for ever. Gilbert, being extremely selfish, he really hopes that it isn’t true. He hopes that by some miracle, Matthew will forgive Gilbert and they’ll be able to move on with their lives. That’s so selfish, Gilbert knows that, still, he wants it to be that way.

Ding!

Gilbert’s thinking gets interrupted by his phone pinging, excitement grows in his stomach, so much so he could throw up. He practically runs to the coffee table trying to get the phone, looking at the screen and-

What was that scene at that cafe? Was that some crazy play you planned?

A mix of emotions go through Gilbert, his excitement deflates a bit, not much, which is not something he wants. He wants to not be happy that Roderich is texting him. Of course, that isn’t the case.

Ahaha… sorry about that. The day was really wild and a lot happened.

What… Gilbert is furious at himself, why is he so impulsive?! He just lied again! Well… In truth he technically didn’t lie since the day was absolutely insane. Of course, it’s still a lie since he isn’t telling the whole truth on how he is engaged and continues to compulsively lie just for what…? What can Gilbert possibly achieve by doing this? Gilbert himself isn’t sure for that matter. He’s mad at himself for getting excited when he sees the ellipsis appear on his screen meaning that Roderich is typing.

It must have been beyond wild since someone called you a pig- in French. An engagement ring got thrown down on the table. What’s your genius explanation for that?

Gilbert pauses, now is the perfect time for him to finally come clean, now is the time for him to just go ahead and tell the truth so hopefully he can rebuild his possible marriage. Yet, there’s a small part of him that wants to just say something entirely different. That small part of him is something Gilbert hates, loathes even.

Eh, I think it’s just some crazy friend of the person, I heard he has some wild marriage gone wrong or something, lol. Sorry.

...Lol!? What on earth is Gilbert thinking? Lol!? How on earth can he lie yet again; this time about someone he hardly knows!? Is Gilbert discovering he’s some pathological liar that lies every chance he can get? Gilbert is in shock with himself, why is he doing this?

Ding dong ding!

Gilbert almost jumps, that isn’t the sound his phone makes… In fact, it’s the sound the doorbell makes! Is it Matthew!?  
Gilbert yet again, goes running to where the sound is, he flings open the door, actually flings it open. There Matthew is, he looks okay, which is a minor relief to Gilbert.

“Bir-”

“Please- Please don’t, Gilbert…”

Oh no… Gilbert is freaking out. Does Matthew mean it when he calls him by his first name? It’s been almost seven months since Matthew last called him by his first name. That was on one of their first dates, also their first kiss with each other. Right after that was when Matthew called Gilbert the nickname that’s stuck ever since. Gilbert isn’t sure what this can mean exactly, what does Matthew want to do now? Where can they go from here?

“Listen, I can’t apologize enough to you, I know it might-”

“A-apologize…? Why- Why would you even want to…? You o-obviously already have someone else!”

Matthew obviously tries to yell, it only sounds like he slightly raises his voice. Gilbert completely understands why Matthew is upset, Gilbert would be too. Except, he knows that Matthew would never, ever… cheat on him. Just thinking about how Gilbert actually cheated is something he never thought he would do.  
“No! No I don’t have anyone else Bi- Matthew! I only have you!”

“You- you only have me…?! But- but you were asked if you were engaged and… And you said n-no!”

Matthew isn’t going to let Gilbert sweet-talk his way out of this. A small bit of Gilbert is grateful that he’s doing so. The rest of Gilbert isn’t however, he wants Matthew to just please forgive him…

“I know…! I didn’t know you were there!”

Oh my god… Gilbert can’t believe he just said that. That’s one of the most ridiculous things Gilbert has ever said. Which probably makes it sound like Gilbert has cheated so many times before, he never has. Until yesterday.

“Wha- what…? But… But you would have said so much more if I wasn’t there!?”

Gilbert can’t believe he’s getting irritated, both at himself, at Matthew, somehow. He’s irritated at Matthew since he can’t hear Gilbert. Well, he can, just not what Gilbert is meaning to say.

“No! I wouldn’t do that-”

“Gilbert stop lying! I’m so- so done! I’m done… Done with you!”

Gilbert isn’t able to utter a word as Matthew runs out, Gilbert doesn’t miss the tears now streaming down his face. Matthew slams the door shut, a few knick-knacks rattle on the shelves over the powerful slam of the door. 

Done… Done as in… A break-up…? 

Ding!

\---------  
Grateful  
\---------

Berwald doesn’t remember the last time he’s gone to a hospital, let alone a visit for himself. The moment that Tino dropped on the floor, Berwald got a bullet to the upper arm. The pain wasn’t on his mind at the moment, what was, however, was that Tino just passed out on the floor without any word or notice. It shocked Berwald that Tino could just go down without saying anything. Thankfully, the situation de-escalated quickly, where the remaining officers were able to apprehend the shooters and take them in so no-one else could get harmed. 

Thankfully, the bullet passed right through Berwald’s upper arm so there’s no real damage, he got discharged about an hour ago. He heard Tino is going to be fine, all he needs is some sleep. Which is relieving to hear, since Berwald thought maybe something really bad was going on. The doctors assured him that isn’t the case, so he doesn’t have anything to worry about. Of course, Berwald certainly is worrying about it. He knows he has no reason to, but in the heat of a life or death situation, and your partner just drops to the floor, it’s horrifying. Now all that Berwald can really do is pace a hole in the floor, waiting rather unpaintenly for Tino to wake up. Berwald knows that he’s very worried.

“Hey Ber- woah! You look scary! Is Tino okay…”

“Can’t you talk quieter?! This is a hospital, people are trying to sleep here.”

“This is the regular place, Norge! People can sleep later!”

“You’re so unbelievable.”

Berwald looks up from the hole he’s been hypothetically boring into the floor. Both Lukas and Matthias have trays of hospital food in their hands, Berwald wonders why on earth it took both of them three hours to get food… Well, he can guess the reason.

“Anywayyy! Berrrrr! Has Tino woken up yet?’

“It’s obvious he hasn’t, idiot. Otherwise, don’t you think Berwald would have been in there by now?”

“Well… We were gone for hoursss! I didn’t know if he had woken up while we were fuc-”

“- Okay we get it, dumbass.”

“I’m so abused!”

Berwald didn’t have a headache a few minutes ago, sadly he does now. Both due to rising stress over how long it’s taking for Tino to wake up. Berwald drove both of them to the hospital about a day ago. The doctors told him not to worry, that Tino will be fine; all he needs is a good sleep. Still, almost twelve whole hours is a long time. Another factor of giving Berwald a headache is how loud Matthias is being right now. Yes, it’s a regular occurrence, sometimes Berwald wishes that Matthias could know the gift of having an inside voice. Berwald knows he’s been waiting outside of Tino’s door for a good few hours, without sitting or doing anything of any sort of resting. So, he already has had a headache in the making for the past few hours.

Even in the loud hustle and bustle of a hospital, Berwald can hear a subtle cough from a specific room that Berwald is standing right in front of. He’s almost sure that Tino just woke up, which will be a huge relief to him.

He opens up the door, thankfully, his mind isn’t playing tricks on him since Tino is sitting up in his bed, he’s looking around in a confused matter. Berwald stands in the doorway for a second, a fond smile on his face. He stands there for a few more seconds until Tino looks up to see him.

“What happened? I thought… I thought we were out? What- your arm! Oh my god are you okay!?”

Berwald walks into the room, his eyes adjust to the darkness quickly, all the curtains are down at the moment. Berwald takes a seat on a chair right by Tino’s bedside so he’s at eye level with Tino in the chair.

“We got to tha scene, then ya conked out. M’ fine, jus’ a bullet.”

“Wha…? I just passed out!? In the middle of a mission?! You got shot!? Because of me!?”

Berwald shakes his head, it’s actually his own fault as to how he got shot, he froze in his place and didn’t make a move since he started to panic, that’s how he got shot. It’s not Tino’s fault and Berwald doesn’t know how he can have gotten that conclusion from what Berwald said.

“Tino! You’re okay! We were so worried about you! We thought you… You died!”

“Oh my god! There- You idiot!”

“Wait… I died!?”

Berwald face-palms, there would be an entirely different mood if Tino died. Even if just for a moment, the mood would be much more solemn. Even if Tino ended up being okay, everyone would still be worried that something bad could happen all over again. So no, thankfully, Tino is perfectly fine, otherwise Berwald would have easily run a hole in the floor. Or the vital monitor. 

“No. Nothin’ happened to ya, ya fine, right?”

“Oh… I mean? I think so? I still don’t even know how I could have just passed out.”

“The doc said sleep deprivation…”

Tino looks away shyly, he must know he completely ignored the very important thing that is sleep. Berwald knows he should have tried to get Tino to sleep. Well, neither of them really did sleep for about three days. Berwald thought both of them were able to sneak in a few naps during a coffee break. Apparently that wasn’t the case, since Tino is in the hospital after dropping down from not resting. Berwald hopes that Tino won’t do this again. Berwald can hope, he knows that Tino most likely will continue to ignore sleeping. Which bothers Berwald.

“Oh… Really? It was only like three days? I don’t know how that even happened-”

“THREE WHOLE DAYS!? That- that’s insane! How the hell were you able to do that?!”

Berwald covers his ringing ears, good God. Can’t Matthias for once not scream? It takes a second for Berwald’s ears to stop ringing so he can focus on what everyone is saying. Apparently, they stopped talking too, since Lukas has his ears covered and Tino looks pained.

“Matthias, could you maybe tone it down? This is a hospital after all.”

“I think you made me partially deaf, thanks Matthias.”

“Huuuuh?! I wasn’t that loud… Was I? Hey! You all are soooo overreacting! Nobody can yell that loudly!”

“Oh boy. You are tone deaf, you idiot.”

The headache that started to go away came back as strong as ever. Wonderful. Thankfully, Matthias is finally talking in a voice remotely normal for being inside. Berwald doesn’t even know how he even gained the voice box of a literal humpback whale. Back when they all were in training, they weren’t taught to yell like a chimpanzee whenever they got the chance. Still, here Matthias is, sounding like he’s in the middle of combat every day. The idiot.

“Anyway… What happened? After I… passed out?”

“Weeeellll, good ol’ Ber here got shot in the arm, he’s fine though! He got discharged a few hours ago! Sooo me and Norge and some other officers who I forgot their names-”

“Oh. How respectful.”

“Norge! I’m telling our valiant story here! Anyway! So we arrested the people who were shooting and whatever. Turns out, those people had a bomb in their hideout! They might have blown up something and things could have gone straight to hell!”

Berwald sighs, that’s a dramatization, yes, there was a ‘bomb’. What the bomb happened to be was a fake bomb. There wasn’t anything inside it, it was made out of clay. Berwald has no clue how having a clay bomb made people start defending the place with guns and firing at police. It makes no sense, yet it still happened. How or why still confuses everyone involved. Nobody has gotten any answers from the shooters since getting arrested.

“Wait- what!? A bomb!? How big was it? How… Wh-why?!”

“Matthias is being dramatic. Yeah, there was a bomb of sorts, just not an actual one. It was made of clay.”

Berwald can tell just by looking at Tino that he’s just as confused as Berwald is. Maybe… Maybe there’s an actual bomb and the real one got switched out by a fake one? It sounds ridiculous, still, in this line of work, ridiculous is average. One day a building was on fire because a five year old had a teddy bear near an oven. Somehow a spark flew and boom, a blazing building. Then a person dies by a wrench in their head and it’s suicide…? Everyday is a wild goose chase.

“But… Why would a group of armed civilians protect a clay bomb? Unless you guys might have missed something.”

“Well, we were reallyyyyy rushed since the chief was up our asses so we were rushing! We might go back tomorrow or someth-”

“Breaking news: A bomb just exploded outside of our beloved studio, PeachTree Films. We don’t know how many are injured but the bomb is coated in some sort of radiated gas that’s burning paramedics who come near the scene. Officers earlier were dispatched to disarm some wild shooters. Apparently, they missed this one very crucial weapon, now our loved home of memories is destroyed.”

Berwald’s mouth falls open, he can’t believe it. PeachTree is on fire?! Who… Who would do this? And the media is blaming them!? What’s going on?

“Oh my god… Why would this happen? Ber, do you think… This was to cover up something?”

Berwald contemplates the thought, he can’t say for sure right now. That does make sense, otherwise, there’s a whole new player in this twisted game of chess. Marrakesh owns almost every business, from news outlets, to police stations, almost every large building needed for a town to survive is under that man’s clutches. If somehow one of those businesses decided to revolt, what’s their reason?

“I think yer right…”

Berwald doesn’t know what to think of this… He’s almost sure that Marrakesh wouldn’t be caught by surprise with such an insane attack. The added radiation just increases Berwald’s suspicion. Still… What is Marrakesh planning now?

\--------------------  
What a Wild World  
\--------------------

“Я не могу поверить в это! Как смеет этот человек! Невероятно!” (I can't believe this! How dare that man!)

A loud scream in Russian jolts Toris awake, he’s confused, he doesn’t know where he is. By looking around, he can tell he’s in some sort of home maybe? Since there’s bookcases on the walls, tables and chairs, making wherever this is seem very homey. Then does Toris realize that there’s chains on his wrists and ankles, chaining him down to a metal table. His thoughts start racing, why is he chained down to a very freezing table? Who’s this person who’s having a breakdown is Russian? Who… Who is he himself? Toris remembers someone who was with him yesterday… He can’t remember who that person even is, did he know that person well? Probably, since that person was with Toris every time he opened his eyes. If at one point he did know that person, Toris feels bad, he knows that whoever that is lost many hours of sleep just staying with him. Now, Toris has a more pressing matter to think about. How’s he going to get out?

“Sir… We got the most important things out before it got deadly. All the actual equipment is all gone. The plans are fine.”

“Oh… Most wonderful. Alright well fortunately we have a great defense against those prodding police officers. I do hope they find the henchman who pulled the trigger for the all important Quishi. I want to strangle that…”

A cold chill gets sent up Toris’ spine. Whoever this man is, who has an eloquent way of speaking, sounds extremely dangerous. Toris doesn’t know what this person is capable of, he’s just sure that this is by no means a good man.

“Sir! We can’t start a war with Qui-”

“Excuse me!? We most certainly can start a war with that… Mongul… He set my own beloved studio ablaze! That’s a declaration of war if I have seen one. I shall go to battle with that man. I will be victorious.”

Toris accidentally hits his wrist chain down on the metal table, it makes a loud clanking sound. He winces, not just over the loud sound, but now that those people know he’s awake. 

“Yes, you see… We have a trump card in our roster. The experiment is successful. Welcome among the living, ангел.” (angel)

Toris didn’t know the words were being said towards him, not until that last word, ангел. The second that man said that word, the chains on his wrists and ankles glow with a bright, almost ethereal light. They glow like that for a few more seconds before snapping in two instantaneously. Toris sits up yet, he didn’t even try to move. A leg goes in front of the other, he stands up though he isn’t trying to. A sharp pain stabs at his wrist, he looks down and gasps. There’s a bright blue color, much brighter than his wrist veins usually are, almost shines through his skin. He tries to stop walking, to no avail. It’s as if his body is on autopilot and won’t move the way he wants it to.

“Да, сэр?” (Yes sir?)

Toris is horrified, a voice comes from his mouth, except it sounds nothing like him. The voice is deep, having almost a silky rasp at every word. Toris knows he’s never spoken like that before, has he? Another thing that’s freaking him out is he’s speaking Russian; a language Toris never knew prior to this day. Yet, Toris doesn’t even know what came out of ‘his’ mouth.

“Доказать мне вашу новую власть. Үничтожить этот слуга мой!” (Show me your new power! Destroy this servant of mine!)

The man speaks words yet again that Toris doesn’t understand, maybe the strange force moving him and speaking through him must know what he said since Toris’ arm raises unwillingly yet again. Pain explodes in Toris’ glowing forearm, he tries to scream but can’t. It’s as if all he owns is his eyes at the moment. A person, the other one who was in the room, their eyes bug from their heads, they yowl in agony before dropping to the ground, writhing. Toris tries to close his eyes but can’t. What is he doing?! The person on the floor continues to scream, the strong yells start to become hoarse as ‘Toris’ closes his fist. The whites of the person's eyes start to turn dark red. A stream of blood pools from their mouth. Toris is so scared. Is he doing this… How?! What’s going on…

“Yes! My second creation! You, my frame to my masterpiece, is complete!”

Toris is able to move of his own will once the… person stops moving altogether. Toris looks away, trying to avoid how there’s bright red lines coursing up the now most likely dead guy. Toris hopes this is all a dream. He knows it isn’t, since the pain in his arm is far too real. In the corner of Toris’ eye, he can see how his own blue forearm now has an odd, reddish tint to it. Why… Why does it feel like he’s seen this before?

“H-huh…?! What… I-”

“Ah yes… I mustn’t forget, the sinful part of you still lives. The part of which you gave into human desires, pity, really. It takes a long time to give way to innocence from having sinned so greatly.”

What… What on earth does this man mean? These words sound so insane, Toris almost feels like he’s in some old book of poetry. Except, this is all too real. Still… He can’t help but think he’s seen something like this before. He doesn’t even know if that’s true, after all, he can’t remember anything besides being in a hospital.

“Ah, well. Not to worry, you aren’t the true masterpiece of my painting. No, we have a much more worthy contender.”

Toris hears a door open a few feet behind him, he turns his head and blinks a few times in disbelief. Behind the door is a blonde male, who has almost completely shattered glasses on his face. Toris can see the guy shaking from three feet away. He has no clue what’s happened to this poor person and he knows that whatever comes in the future won’t be good either.

“Welcome, see your muse, Amelia!”

Oh my god… Hearing that name makes Toris remember something… A movie?! A… A horror movie… Where a girl gets held hostage and possessed by a demon… The girl’s name in the movie was Amelia.

“Now, the most anticipated movie of everyone’s lifetime, Rituals; Second Coming.”

The bright light of a camera flash makes Toris turn his head to see a whole camera crew… All their equipment… On them, as if… 

It’s a movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all this my longest chapter and surprisingly, it's actually important to the story! I'm sorry if some lines or words seem awkward. It SHOULD be in italics but I'm having issues with that xc Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry I accidentally posted the draft so I had to edit it xc I might not post bc next week is my wedding to my gf! It's a fun joke we have aha... Also! Italics aren't working so flashbacks are marked with these, ----   
> Anyway! Hope ya'll enjoy!
> 
> Btw Luther is HRE

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Worry, Terror

Chapter Six

* * *

He is finally doing it, Arthur is finally going to file a missing person report. He knows he should have done it the moment Alfred went missing, Arthur knows that and blames himself over whatever could have happened in that time-frame. One thing that certainly pushed him to go to the station is seeing that video of PeachTree studio being burned to a fiery crisp that made Arthur get out his phone and call the police department. 

Thankfully, he got a decent amount of sleep last night, which surprises even him how that happened. His head hit the pillow at twelve, he woke up at eight. That’s eight full hours of sleep Arthur hasn’t gotten in a long time. He was surprised that he did though, considering all that happened in the past two and a half days. 

It takes a few minutes for the phone to ring, which is odd. The fire happened last night, Arthur was sleeping when the news aired, it was next morning he saw it on television. Arthur has to check the phone to make sure he’s calling the correct number, he is.

“Hello, this is the NPD, what-”

“Uh huh… Yeah, I need to file a missing person report for a… friend.”

Arthur feels bad using that title for Alfred, since Arthur is the cause for Alfred getting hit by that car. He was suspicious of that psycho who demanded some form to be signed…

“Alright. Well, we have a few questions you can answer over the phone, though we’re going to need you at the station to fill out a form.

“Okay… What are the questions?”

Arthur has never done this before. He hoped that he never would have. Of course, sadly, fate has different plans for him. Out of all people to go missing, why does it have to be Alfred? Arthur knows technically he isn’t missing, he’s kidnapped. That thought doesn’t make Arthur feel any better. In fact, it makes him feel much worse. He knows he can’t really inform the police that Alfred’s kidnapper is the ‘beloved film director who lost his precious studio’. Arthur’s heard that the police are partial to the man, Arthur isn’t sure why.

“Well, we need details such as a name, gender, age, basic facial information and such. If there’s more you want to inform us of, we’ll need you at the station.”

“Ah… Okay. Well his name is Alfred, Alfred Jones. He- he’s twenty-one… He’s got blonde hair, glasses since he’s as blind as a bat… And- and the brightest, most b-beautiful blue eyes-” 

What the… What on earth is he saying!? Arthur knows he’s getting choked up, which he usually doesn’t. At least, not near anyone, or on the damn phone with the police for that matter.

“Uhm… Sir? He’s an adult, adults do sometimes just go off, like he could have just decided to go off on a trip of some sort.”

“He wouldn’t do that! Not now… He just got the job of his dreams, he’s wanted it since we were kids… I know he wouldn’t just run off…”

Arthur knows he needs to tell the truth, he will, he just doesn’t know how to without getting hung up on. How can he say it; Yes, Alfred got kidnapped by a psycho. Oh yeah, this psycho is that famous film director. What a great way to get hung up on.

“Okay… Well… Who’s the last person who saw him?”

“His… lawyer…”

Well. Arthur did it. He said what he didn’t want to say since apparently he’s doing a lot of spilling his thoughts today. Now he can’t tell half the truth anymore, he has to say all or it.

“Lawyer? Why does he have a lawyer?”

“Well… It’s because he got hit by a c-car… So this bloody nutty man came to the hospital and said we needed a lawyer or something… Now, Alfred’s gone…”

“That sounds like speculation, if you were at a hospital, there’s many more factors we need to- Wait, who’s the lawyer?”

Arthur swallows heavily, he knows this is it. This is the question that will make Arthur do this investigation on his own. He wants help from the police, maybe those officers that came by the hospital to warn them might help him…

“Ah, uh… His name is Marrakesh-”

Beep!

Arthur looks at the phone then grimaces, he knew it. The officer ended the call on him. Now he knows the missing person report won’t be filed. Arthur sighs in defeat, he’s just got himself to rely on at the moment. He’s called Francis a number of times, with no answer, same with Matthew. Arthur doesn’t really know or trust any of those other people well enough to ask them to help him with the task at hand. Arthur really doesn’t know where to go from here. What can he do? Send out bulliens all over social media? Like the public will care. They never do, this is America after all. 

Arthur can’t help but let his mind wander for a bit, what happened at that studio? Was Alfred there when it burned…? Arthur remembers Alfred telling him something before the phone got cut, an address; or, a part of an address. He remembers Alfred saying; Lima Lane… Of course, Arthur looked it up the second the call ended. What he got was places everywhere except Hollywood. Which greatly disturbes Arthur, what if Alfred is out at some entirely different state? Or even a different continent?! Arthur doesn’t want to think about that since he knows that he’ll just worry himself into a hole he isn’t sure he can drag himself out of. The only place that sounds remotely like Lima Lane is Lime Lane, East Street. The call got cut off with Alfred so Arthur isn’t sure, Alfred could have been trying to say that until… Whatever happened, happened. Arthur knows his attempts to find Alfred right now might seem futile, still, if Arthur can at least find some sort of hint or anything that shows that Alfred is okay. That’ll make Arthur’s day. Or days.

So, Arthur decides to get in his new Volkswagen Golf and drives over to Lime Lane, East Street and sees nothing out of the ordinary. Arthur sees a few shops, they all look busy, things like soap stores, a boutique, even a hair salon. They all have multiple cars parked in the parking lot. It’s only when Arthur drives by this abandoned movie theater. Arthur scoffs, it seems far too obvious for someone to make that their secret hiding place for hostages or something. It’s far too cliche, like something in a movie… Right?

Either out of desperation, or far too hopeful, Arthur climbs out of his car. The building from the outside looks like it’s decaying, as if it could fall apart any moment, so, another reason for Arthur to not think this place is important. He doesn’t know why he’s still drawn to the large turn-style doors with surprisingly shiny brass handle bars. Seeing that makes Arthur weary, what if he’s coming across something he shouldn’t? He pushes on the doors, to his relief and dismay, the doors are locked where he can’t turn them anyway at all. Arthur is going back to his car, until he hears a yell, not a familiar yell, just a horrified one. As if a mother lost a child or something along those lines. The distressed cry sounds like it came from the back of the theater, which isn’t somewhere Arthur wants to go. He sees a chain link fence surrounding where the back of the theater would be. A bright yellow sign is slap dab in the middle of the fence, with a blaring warning stating; Private Property, trespassers will be arrested on sight. Seeing that makes Arthur even more nervous to go over there. That is, until he hears that cry again, this time more horrified, almost a watery edge to the cry as if the person is about to break down. That gets Arthur to move, he jumps the fence, it’s short, only about three feet high which is surprising. No matter, since Arthur runs to the back and stops in his tracks.

There’s a girl standing with her back turned from Arthur, he leans against a wall to better see the situation and hide himself. He feels silly, like maybe someone’s filming a video and he’s crashing in on it. He feels like those stupid spies in movies who always get themselves into trouble, except, that usually isn’t him; that’s Alfred.

“P-please! Stop this!”

“Oh? Why should I? Maria, you know too much!”

“C-Cyrus…! We can- we can work this- Augh!”

The lady, who Arthur can assume is ‘Maria’, falls backwards, where Arthur can now see her front side. He wishes he hasn’t. A long slit is down her stomach, deep red pools from the wound too quickly. It really does feel like a movie to Arthur. He feels sick.

“See! This is all your fault! If you didn’t- fuck! Why would you try to run!? You’re so fucking stupid!”

Arthur tries not to look at the lady bleeding out on the floor, he knows he can’t do anything, not a thing he can really do now. Arthur looks over at the man who most likely slit her stomach, he’s looking over at a doorway, Arthur can’t see who’s in it which is odd.

“I… I didn’t…”

Arthur gasps, he audibly gasps. That- that voice… Holy hell… There’s only one person who has that voice… Alfred! Of course, Alfred isn’t the only person who heard Arthur’s gasp. The man who… killed that woman walks over to the corner Arthur is standing behind. Panic ensues, what can he do? What should he do? Should Arthur just run for it? No, no he can’t leave Alfred alone with whoever this person is, the man sounds angry, Arthur has no clue what he can do. So, that doesn’t leave any other option, fight. What can Arthur really do to fight? Not much… Arthur sees a medium size piece of metal scrap, it has a flat surface so Arthur can just whack this guy on the head to knock him-

“Holy shit! We have a spy-”

CONK! 

In the heat of the moment, Arthur didn’t see the man approaching him, when the man started to speak though, Arthur swung as hard as he could at the man’s skull. Arthur hopes he didn’t kill the guy. Still, at least he’s out so Arthur can get Alfred.

“Uh- oh my god… Who- who’s there?”

Arthur steps over the person’s body, almost colliding straight into Alfred. Both Arthur and Alfred gasp, Arthur gasps again since he can’t really believe it’s him. Alfred looks surprisingly great… His hair looks shiny, a bit wet, as if he just washed it a few hours ago. His clothes look neat and new, Arthur knows Alfred wasn’t wearing that when he got… hit. Arthur notices Alfred has new glasses on, which is odd… Still, Alfred looks normal, great even, until Arthur looks Alfred in the eye. Something seems… Different. Alfred’s eyes are usually so bright and full of life, now they look so… dull. As if someone just stole the light out of them and left them… empty.

“Ar-Arthur!? What are you doing here…?!”

“Wha- I’m here to get you out of this… This hellhole!”

Arthur’s mind may be playing tricks on him, but it looks like Alfred is scared? Which Arthur doesn’t understand how or why. Arthur’s guess becomes stronger since Alfred keeps looking back at the creepy dark backdoor to the theater.

“You… You have to go! It- it’s dangerous-”

“Dangerous!? Then why the bloody hell would you wanna stay here!?”

Alfred looks… conflicted!? Arthur is so confused, why would Alfred want to stay here…? Arthur gets jolted out of his thinking by getting a hug, he doesn’t need to guess to know who it’s from. Still, the second Arthur gets the hug, he hears the clanking of… Chains?! Arthur looks at Alfred’s right wrist and sees a heavy chain on it. Arthur can see the thick, heavy metal going into the theater.

“I- I want to go, Artie… But- but I can’t. I can’t leave… I miss you so much I- I wanna go home but… I- I can’t…”

“Why…? What’s going on…?”

Alfred looks like he’s about to speak, then Arthur sees Alfred’s right wrist get tugged back, the tug is so strong it almost sends him down. Alfred’s eyes widen substantially, which starts to panic Arthur.

“Alfr-”

Alfred shoves Arthur in the chest, very hard since Arthur goes crashing to the ground, Arthur looks up at Alfred and again, wishes he hadn’t.

Alfred’s eyes are wide, tears brimming on his water-line, he’s pulled back into the theater abyss before Arthur can get up or even scream his name.

  
  


* * *

Right?

* * *

. ----  


“What’s something a married couple does…?”

“They kiss, silly!”

“Th-they… huh!? Do you-”

Feliciano smiles, as he jumps forwards, despite being shy, he kisses Luther. In that moment, Feliciano can feel the wind rush past them, it feels like they’re in the middle of a movie, those beautiful old romantic ones in black and white. Feliciano cracked open an eyelid to see Luther with his eyes squeezed shut, his cheeks as red as a rose. It makes Feliciano so happy, so happy to know that someone loves him as much as he loves them.

“I love you, Luther!”

Feliciano backed up a moment ago so he could tell Luther how he feels, of course, he’s trying his hardest at English, still, he knows there aren't enough words in that language to express how he feels.

“I- I love you t-too! I-Ita!”

Hearing that, it makes Feliciano’s heart swell with happiness. He knows there’s a detail Feliciano isn’t telling Luther, he’s scared, what will Luther say when he finds out the truth? That Feliciano isn’t a girl… No, he’s a boy who is in love with another boy. When he hangs out with Francis, he’d always flirt with everyone, he told Feliciano it’s okay to love who you want. Love has no rules, you love who you want. Even his own grandpa had multiple husbands. There isn't a person who told Feliciano it’s wrong. Nobody’s told him, he’s read it in books, where people dislike people like him. Feliciano doesn’t want to scare Luther away, he doesn’t want to lose someone like this. He doesn’t know if he can.

“Can we… Can we kiss again?”

“Yeah!”

The second kiss is just as sweet as the first, this time though, it feels more magical to Feliciano, since he isn’t the one who initiated it. It’s much shorter than the first too, though Feliciano doesn’t mind. It’s sweet.

“M-marry me-!"

\----  


Beep… Beep… Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep…

Feliciano wakes with a jolt, tears streaming down his cheeks. He hates that dream… It’s more of a nightmare to him now. Those dreams… Aren’t just dreams of course, they actually happened to him. Back when he was a young child, back when he thought he knew what love was, back when… Back before he lost almost everything. He knows that something like that may be happening again… He isn’t sure he can go through losing it all again. This time though, he wouldn’t have anyone. Since they’d all be… dead.

Feliciano wipes the tears still coming from his eyes so he can actually see where he is. It isn’t a surprise where he is. Though, for a second, he thought he might have been back there… Thankfully, no, he’s in his brother’s hospital room. His brother looks so peaceful… Feliciano can’t help it but he looks frantically at the vital monitor to make sure he’s okay. Feliciano sighs in relief, a hiccup follows after. It’s ironic really, the first time he went to the hospital was for… him… The second time, his parents, the third, his grandfather, Every single time, none of them got out of that hospital. Feliciano is so scared that Lovino will be the fourth person to go in and not come out.

“You okay? You’re crying…”

Feliciano sits up, wincing when he hears and feels his neck crack. He looks over to where he heard the voice come from and isn’t surprised to see Antonio. When Feliciano came into Lovino’s room, he saw Antonio passed out on Lovino’s chest. Feliciano just broke down crying when he saw that and just went to sleep in the closest chair. By the looks of it, Antonio looks like he finally got the sleep he probably didn’t get for a few days, nobody really slept in that time. 

“Y-yeah… I’m fine… I just had a bad dream, that’s all!”

Feliciano puts on a cheery smile, despite how he’s feeling. In fact, he wants to again cry his eyes out; it’s something he’s been doing a lot of. Antonio looks skeptical at Feliciano’s quick change of mood, he hopes Antonio won’t push or say anything.

“Okay… Well, let me know if that changes, okay Feli?”

Feliciano nods, even though he most likely won’t say anything. He doesn’t think people need to know about how everything going on really makes him just want to curl into a little ball and give up. He’s trying not to think about it; his dream and what happened on the phone with Ludwig. He’s trying not to think about it. Yet… How can he not?

“Ugh… Il inferno…?” (the hell)

Both Feliciano and Antonio look over to see Lovino, who, by the looks of it, just woke up. He’s looking a lot better now since he’s been in the hospital for a few days now so he’s regaining a lot of blood and energy he lost from getting shot. Which is a relief to everyone involved in what happened. Feliciano still hasn’t gotten the full details on what actually went down and most importantly, why?

“I’ll go get some breakfast! We good with the cafeteri-”

“Huh!? No! Not that disgusting hospital food! I’ve been stuck in this horrifying hell hole for days! I haven’t seen the damn sun for days! Antonio go get me some actual fucking food!”

“Like…?”

“Food! Actually food you fottuto cretino! Crepes! Tortes! I swear to god anything is better than that shit!”

“Okay, okay, Love! I’ll be back then. I love youuu!”

Antonio goes running out the hospital room before Lovino can say a word, Feliciano can tell since he had his mouth open, probably ready to lovingly chastise/threaten. Feliciano is almost glad Antonio left, not that he dislikes Antonio. No, he just wants to talk to his brother, alone. Hopefully, it’s going to take Antonio a bit to find some good breakfast, since Feliciano has a lot he wants to say. Yet, at the same time, he doesn’t want to overwhelm Lovino.

“That no good figlio di puttana…” (son of a bitch)

“Uh… Fratello? H-How are you feeling, you any better?”

Feliciano looks down at the floor when he realizes Lovino is staring daggers at him. Feliciano doesn’t know why. He is worried about his brother. He doesn’t understand why Lovino would be angry at him for that.

“I heard you, day before yesterday. How you cried over that potato loving-bastard… Did you see what happened a few days ago?”

“I… huh? What- what happened?”

“I heard those fucking loud ass nurses chatting outside my door, they said that film studio everyone loved or whatever got burned down. PeachTree I think?”

Feliciano doesn’t know how that can really concern him, sure, he’s seen a few movies by the director. He never liked them, they always scared him too much, he ended up ‘watching’ the movies with his head buried in Ludwig’s arm… Oh… 

“Why- why is that important?”

Lovino sighs, he looks conflicted, which makes Feliciano’s stomach sink. Why would he be conflicted over his question? Is it important somehow? Sure, it’s a film studio, but there’s tons! That director can just buy a new one! Right?

“I’m just connecting a few dots here… But I heard about what happened, with that wurst-liar. That guy who he tried to… hurt, he worked at that studio… I think he’s got something-”

“What does that have to do with anything? I called him a few days ago, he said that what he did was so we could live! You know what I mean, don’t you? Both you and Toni are barely getting by! And- and I wasn’t able to work so… So he did what he could think of!”

Feliciano knows he’s getting hysteric. He knows it. It’s just… He can’t accept thinking that Ludwig might be involved with something so much bigger than Feliciano could have ever thought possible. If- if that’s true, then Ludwig might have been in the fire…

“Are you serious!? There are other fucking jobs other than murder for a living! How can you defend him!? He could have killed so many people and probably still is! I told you, he’s insane-!”

“STOP! Please! I- I can’t… Ludwig wouldn’t… He- he has to have a reason! He… He…”

He’d never. It’s the truth, Feliciano knows it. Ludwig has no reason to ever dare hurt people without reason. Ludwig said it himself, he did it for Feliciano. It’s his fault; he can accept that. Feliciano knew from the start that there’s no way a food truck could support two adult males. Even then, when Ludwig would give some excuse, Feliciano knew that he’s hiding something. He understands now, why Ludwig lied. Feliciano understands. He trusts Ludwig, with his whole heart. Ludwig would never, ever do something that isn’t necessary. 

Right?

“Feli… I- I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have said that but, you have to know this is suspicious… He gets called out, burns a studio down? The one that guy worked for? It’s shady…”

“It- it’s just a coincidence! I know Ludwig, I know he would never, ever do something like that. Why would he, anyway?”

Feliciano knows he’s just trying to convince himself to think anything else. Even if he actually did consider the other options, it makes no sense anyway. Ludwig really doesn’t have any reason to. At least, none that Feliciano can think of.

“Okay, if that’s what you think… Anyway, where the hell is that fool… Get my phone, I’m gonna call him.”

Feliciano is grateful for the distraction, Antonio and Lovino are always on the phone for a while, arguing, or, one-sided yelling from Lovino. Feliciano grabs Lovino’s phone sitting on the desk right next to him, he tosses it to Lovino since he’s walking distance from him. Lovino catches it, he dials what Feliciano can guess is Antonio’s number.

“What’s taking you so damn long?... Hello? Antonio…?”

Lovino looks irritated and surprised, which is also surprising Feliciano. Why isn’t Antonio answering? Is he okay?

“H-hello!? Who the hell are you?! Wha- what!?”

Now Feliciano is scared, by the looks of it, Lovino is too. What’s going on? Something really bad must be happening… Should he go over to where the restaurants are and see if Antonio is over there? If something really, really bad just happened… Feliciano isn’t sure he can do anything…

“Anto- Wha… WAIT! No don’t-!”

Lovino drops the phone down by his side, his eyes are trained on the floor and look watery. Feliciano’s mind is whirling with thoughts on what could have possibly just happened.

“Lovi…? Is- is Antonio… okay?”

“I- I don’t know!? I heard this voice on the phone! Then I hear Antonio say something… Then that guy threatened to shoot him… I- the phone call ended right after…”

Feliciano can’t believe it. Why is all this happening to them now? What have they possibly done now?!

“Should I-”

“No! It- the person… They sounded just like… him! That liar… Oh my god Toni…”

What!? Did… Did Lovino just say… The person on the phone sounded like… Ludwig? He… He wouldn’t…

Right…?

  


* * *

Yet Again

* * *

  


Antonio is sure he’s going to have some type of brain damage from being whacked in the skull so many times. This time though, he didn’t pass out. So when he opened his eyes maybe a second later after being hit in the head, he sees a gun pointed directly at his forehead. Antonio doesn’t even know how to react anymore, this has happened so many times. It’s like getting a shot, it scares you a few times, then just ends up being normal. Antonio actually gasps when he sees who’s pointing the gun at him. That’s that guy Feliciano always hangs out with? The guy looks exactly like him. Antonio notices something too, ‘Ludwig’ has his phone, he just hung it up, which confuses Antonio. Who called him? Since they must have gotten a shock, hearing Antonio getting threatened by a gun. He can only hope Ludwig is bluffing.

“Wha- what are you doing?”

Ludwig looks shocked that when he hit Antonio on the head that he didn’t pass out; Antonio is too. His ears are still ringing and he has a killer headache. Antonio heard about what happened a few days ago at the hospital, then he heard that… place Antonio went to got burned down. If he’s honest, he’s happy that place is in ruins. Still, Lovino told him about his theory that Ludwig went and torched it. Antonio doesn’t know about that, he doesn’t really know Ludwig too well since there’s always so much going on so none of them have really been able to get together in a long time. Still, what Antonio remembers of Ludwig, he doesn’t think the guy would break down in a fit of rage and burn a building down. Of course, getting whacked in the head and threatened to be shot in the skull is giving Antonio some doubt. 

“My boss… He wants to talk to you…”

His… boss? Why would this guy’s boss want to talk with him? Antonio doesn’t understand what’s going on. If Ludwig still works as whatever his job was a few days ago, then Antonio certainly doesn’t want to be involved.

“Uh- what…!? Why? I don’t- I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

“No, I don’t… Listen, if you aren’t coming willingly then I…”

Ludwig trails off on his sentence, which, yet again, confuses Antonio. At least Antonio knows he isn’t going to be murdered, yet. Though, when he thinks about it, somethings are so much worse than death… Antonio’s experienced a form of that… torture before. 

“Uh… I, I think I’ve got to go-”

Antonio tries to get up and run somewhere. Only to be smacked hard on the head. Again. He winces in pain when his face slams down on the pavement, the headache he had a few moments ago intensifies. His vision is blurring into a thin line… Antonio tries to keep his eyes open, he starts to fail since his eyelids close.

\----  


“I hate you!”

“I’m sorry!”

Antonio looks down at the floor, he tries not to see the irritated look in Lovino’s eyes.

“You-! You! You lied to me! And you ended up getting hurt! Why!? Why lie when you had no reason to!? I don’t care!”

“But… I don’t- you would have walked away, right? If I told you about my mom…”

Antonio dares to look up, he looks right back down seeing Lovino, who still looks extremely irritated. The only reason why Antonio never talked about his mother was because he was scared Lovino didn’t want to be friends with someone who had a mother who disliked almost every decision her child made. Antonio would always question why. Her response would always be; you’re thirteen, Antonio. You’re too young to understand. 

“I- I don’t care! We never see her, I don’t know why you think I would! I- you idiot!”

“I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologizing!”

Antonio is scared, he’s scared that Lovino is going to leave him alone. Well, he has a bunch of friends in middle school, just… None are as important to him as Lovino is. Antonio isn’t quite sure what he can call this feeling. He just remembers when he told his mom about it, he won’t ever forget the disgusted look in her eyes. Ever since that day, she’s always acted differently towards him, like he’s different from how he was before he talked to his mom. When he sees Lovino, his heart feels warm, like he’s getting a constant hug every time he sees Lovino. Antonio doesn’t want to say anything, not yet, at least. He wants to know for sure what this is. Sure, he’s had girlfriends before, but… He never felt anything like what he feels now. He doesn’t even know if what he’s feeling can be compared to a girlfriend. Even if Antonio finds out what it is he’s feeling, he’s only thirteen.

“I just… What can I say, then?! I don’t- I don’t-”

Slap!

“You stupid idiot! Don’t you ever pay attention to anything I say!?”

\----  


Slap!

Antonio blinks a few times, a bit disoriented over where he is. That was such a vivid dream… He swears he actually just got slapped since he can feel a sharp stabbing pain in his cheek.

“Thaaaaaaank goodness! You’re finally awake! That took you damn foreverrrr!”

The moment Antonio hears a loud voice, a headache pounds all over his head. He remembers what happened; Ludwig knocked him out to see his boss. Antonio looks up from where he is on the floor and sees a very, very short man standing near him. Antonio is confused, is Ludwig actually some crazed killer? Or is he just some sales person? Since seeing this man looks like he's a realtor.

“Wh-where am I…?”

The short man laughs, which brings a stabbing pain to Antonio’s already throbbing headache.

“You are so funny! Ahahahaha! You seeee, you’re at my placeeeeee! Welcome to Yínsè chènlǐ!” (silver lining (i think... i'm so sorry idk any chinese)

Huh? Now Antonio is really confused, what did this man say? Yin- something? Where is he? Antonio is worried too, how long has he been out?

“What…?”

“Ahaha! Silly me! I’m sorrrrrrry! I meant- wait- fuck what does that mean again… Ohhhh! Yeah! It’s the name of my place, obviously! Like- my gang!”

His… gang? Wait… Like a gang gang? As in robbing phone stores and some petty crimes? So those people were right. Or, that’s what Antonio thinks…

“A… gang? Why…?”

“Pfft! You were with that MAN-WHORE Marrakesh! I know, I know! He ‘let you go’ or whateverrr! But after I got my best man to burn that awful studio down, I bet he’s fuming with rage! It’s hilarioussss!”

Antonio is starting to think this man has the wrong person, sure, he was… with that man. It was unwillingly and Antonio certainly won’t call it being with him. It was more like him being held against his will. 

“What… What does this have to do with me?”

“Huuuuuh!? What do you meannnn!? He’s gonna go after everyone! Especially me! I love my boys! I can’t lose them! Sooooo, I’m gonna need some… ‘insurance’.”

Antonio swallows nervously, what can this man possibly mean by insurance? That man let Antonio go… Why would he care?

“Uhm… What?”

“Ooh! Sorrrrry! I bet you’re really fucking confused so let me clarify! I’m gonna keep you here, until that insane bitch calms the hell down! After all, I was just trying to help humanity after all!”

A rock forms in Antonio’s throat, he’s going to be kept here, in a place he doesn’t know, with people he’s never seen, without all the people he loves for however long. Antonio really hasn’t had a moment like that. He met Lovino in about third grade, and he always had a bunch of friends. Antonio asked Lovino out when he was fourteen. He got kicked out at sixteen and has lived with Lovino ever since. Antonio has never gone even a week without anyone he cares about. He isn’t sure how he’s going to get through this. Well… He went as long as that when he was with him… 

“You… Huh…?”

“Mhm! Since you knowww that mother fucker is a lying, cheating bitch, he also owns practically fucking everything in this damn town! That’s why me and my boys are trying to take him down to regain our territory! I’m done with him on his high and mighty horse with his eloquent speaking like he’s better than everyone! Pfft! Like we can soooo understand the words he’s saying!”

Antonio is really, really lost. He knows who this short guy is talking about, but Antonio really doesn’t care. He knows he should since he can’t move and he and Lovino just happen to move to such a dangerous town owned by a maniac. 

“So… Why do you need me?”

“Uh, aren’t you listening? Godddd! I just said I need you as insurance so when that wild fucking nut goes out for vengance on his ‘poor pitiful studio’, I’ll have you so he’ll calm the hell down!”

“Why would he?”

“I’m not stupid, sweetie. You’re the first person he ever did that to! I meannn, there’s that poor new american guy, shit, I feel really bad for him, ahah! Anyway, I think Marra-shit still needs you for something. Otherwise, he would have skinned you alive for telling on him! Oh yeah, he would’ve also murdered pretty much everyone you knew and stuff!”

Antonio really is horrified. This whole thing is horrifying to him. Well, Antonio is pretty sure that anyone would be horrified in his situation, is he gonna be okay…? More importantly, is Lovino gonna be okay?

  


* * *

Another Glass

* * *

A gleam of light reflects off some object from the sun. It’s bright enough to wake Matthew from his deep sleep; or, his alcoholic breakdowns. He knows this isn’t healthy, usually, Matthew would never, ever drink. It wasn’t his thing, it was more his brother’s… And his ‘fiance’s’. Until now, where Matthew is pretty sure he lost both of them. Both of which are more or less his fault. Another factor to Matthew’s new found alcohol addiction is Francis, who’s come over to Matthew’s hotel room and brought the wine in those big boxes, along with nice expensive bottles. The next day, Matthew always feels terrible, since one, he’s drinking most likely Francis’ whole collection of wine. Two, he has the worst hangovers, three, he misses his fiance. Matthew knows that’s another thing he shouldn’t be doing. He shouldn’t miss Gilbert. Gilbert is the one who willingly cheated and lied so much in one go. Still, during the middle of the night, when Matthew is having drinking contests with himself, he almost picks up the phone and calls Gilbert. Of course, when Francis is there, he effectively stops Matthew before he can do something he will and won’t regret. Yet, when Matthew really is alone, he can hear Gilbert’s voice in his head right before he calls him.

“I’m not married.”

It always stops Matthew. Every single time. Usually, the moment replays in his mind where Gilbert leans forwards and kisses that stranger. Matthew knows he’s still so bitter. Of course, he’s also sentimental, since the light still shining on his face is his engagement ring. The bright light is making his hangover much, much worse, which Matthew has had a consecutive hangover for a few days now. He sighs, Matthew grabs the ring on the table; he doesn’t want to look at it. He has to, since it’s shining like the sun to his eyes. Matthew doesn’t know what to do with it; the ring. He should give it back to Gilbert. He knows that’s the right thing to do, he needs to do it. At the same time, Matthew doesn’t want to throw this engagement away. For such a long time, Matthew thought Gilbert was the one. Obviously, seeing him kissing someone Matthew’s never met; really ruined the image for Matthew. He doesn’t know what to do now. Of course, after he went over to thei- Gilbert’s house and made a scene since Matthew drank a lot a few minutes before he went over there. Matthew knows he acted a bit out of hand, still. How should he have acted? Just been completely okay with Gilbert kissing some other man while Matthew just watches? He doesn’t think that’s right, or okay, or anything good for that matter.

Ring ring! Ring-

Matthew looks over to his phone, he doesn’t look at the called ID and doesn’t care who it is. He answers the phone though, he’s hungover, not rude.

“Bonjour? Mathieu? Are you doing okay? Last night was a bit rough on you, I understand. I’m worried about you though.”

“Well… I think I’m fine… Just a bad headache from all that… drinking last night.”

Matthew does wonder why Francis suddenly has taken such a liking to him. Since all of them; Matthew, Alfred, Arthur and Francis have all known each other for a long time now. It does confuse Matthew that all of a sudden Francis decides to hang out with Matthew and be his shoulder to cry on and personal bar. Matthew remembers how Arthur always talked about Francis being a ‘sex-crazed maniac’ or something like that. Matthew won’t believe it, Francis has never seemed to be someone like that. At least, not around him.

“You want me to come over? I don’t think we should do any drinking, just us, no?”

“Uh… I- I mean… Sure, if- if you want to.”

It’s not that Matthew doesn’t want Francis to come over, obviously he does since he told Francis he could. Honestly Matthew probably needs someone at his hotel room, which is starting to seem lonely and sad; much like the owner, lonely and sad.

“Of course I do! À bientôt!” (see you in a bit)

“Okay… On se parle plus tard…” (talk to you later)

The call ends, Matthew sighs, preferring to sink down unto the plush carpet of the hotel floor. At first, Matthew loved how soft it felt, now, the soft carpet feels like it’s going to swallow him whole. It used to feel like a loving embrace… Now it feels so possessive? Matthew knows he might just be going insane. He despises being in this hellish hotel where all he does is drink, cry, and sleep. Matthew knows he should be trying to do something productive with his life. Still, almost everything he sees reminds him of what he lost; his brother and fiance. Though Francis always assures Matthew that Gilbert is the one who lost him. Matthew doesn’t know what to think about that… He knows the engagement is over now. Then again, if Gilbert begs Matthew to give him another chance, Matthew will. He’d give Gilbert another chance to break his heart in a beat.

Knock knock!

Apparently, Matthew wasn’t paying attention to how quickly time passes when you’re wallowing. Slowly, he pulls himself up off the floor to go open the door. Matthew knows who’s at it, he isn’t surprised when he sees Francis, who looks a bit too fancily dressed. Or maybe it’s just the lighting in the hotel that makes it look like Francis is wearing a violet suit with a single rose in place of where a tie would be. Though, Matthew is pretty sure the lighting can’t change what type of clothes a person is wearing.

“Mathieu! Are you feeling any better? I brought us some food, for something like a picnic, no?”

“I’m feeling better, thank you… R-really you don’t have to…”

Matthew feels bad for Francis, he feels like all he’s been recently is a dead weight, first, taking all Francis’ time, then his alcohol, now his food. Matthew feels terribly bad about it. Maybe Francis did notice though how all Matthew gets to eat are pancakes now and then. Sure, it isn’t the healthiest option around, it’s one of the most delicious; in Matthew’s opinion.

“But of course! Pancakes are delicious but, you need other things, Matthieu!”

Before Matthew can utter out a word, Francis sits down on the floor, not even an inch away from the door he just closed. He pulls out this neat picnic basket from seemingly thin air, Matthew must have not noticed it. However, he does notice the pretty tie on top of the basket, it’s a beautiful red color. Instead of untying it, Francis pulls a little stick from the middle of the knot. It takes Matthew a second to recognize the stick is a small candle. Francis fully unties the bow and places the red cloth down on the floor, like a table mat, floor mat? Out of the basket Francis grabs six small boxes, each wrapped in this pretty, lacey fabric. Matthew can’t tell what’s in them since the doily-esque covering.

“I… Francis… You- you really didn’t have to, it’s beautiful…”

“I did have to! You were going to live on just wine and pancakes! I certainly can’t have that!”

Francis, being rather resourceful today, digs out a lighter. He lights the candle then proceeds to hand Matthew three wrapped boxes. Carefully, Matthew pulls the white lace tail to unwrap the food. It almost feels like Christmas morning. Unwrapping the lace, Matthew can see a clear plastic container, inside it are escargots, each of them are filled with a smooth, garlic smelling, olive colored sauce. Matthew remembers this specific food from an appetizer course for his cooking classes. He remembers the name, too, escargots a la bourguignonne. Matthew is surprised that Francis went through all this trouble for him. Escargots are specifically hard to find, especially higher quality ones in America. 

“Francis… How… W-why?”

“Why what? Anyway, go ahead and look at my craftsmanship on the other two!”

Matthew is blown away at how Francis can just shrug this off. Still, Matthew is curious so he repeats the same process as he did with the first box. Yet again, Matthew can’t believe what Francis has crafted yet again. A ornate china plate is barely seen over the collection of different bright peppers, red, orange, yellow, all the passionate colorful peppers are on the plate. Large chunks of marinated potatoes are mixed in with the peppers. Half a chopped chicken breast is tossed in the delicious assortment of food. The ‘cherry on top’ is a sprinkle of basil. The savory scent of all the flavors combined is making Matthew drool. Matthew can’t believe it, again. He does know the name of this dish too, chicken basquaise; another French delicacy.

“Franci-!”

“No, no, you’ve got one more.”

Matthew huffs, not in irritation, he can’t be irritated right now, no, he’s just starting to feel extremely bad for Francis. Of course, his curiosity gets the best of him, he unwraps the doily for the final time to see a beautiful dessert. It’s a soft macaroon, a pastel pink color. There’s pilowy cream sandwiched between the two cookies. On top of the macaroon is a single dollop of the same cream filling. Matthew can’t believe it. So much so he starts to cry, rather loudly. He closes his eyes for a moment, only to open them when he feels pressure on his lips. Matthew nearly gasps when he sees Francis has closed the distance between them. Matthew is in shock, so much so he doesn’t move, even after Francis backs up, looking at Matthew both embarrassed and worried.

“Ah, sorry… You just look beautiful in this light.”

Matthew is silent, both his lips and mind are buzzing. Did- he- what?! Matthew still can’t believe it. Francis just kissed him? Except… It didn’t feel rough or imposing, it felt gentle, sweet, even. Matthew is conflicted, so much so that he leans just the smallest bit forwards, his cheeks most likely ablaze at the moment.

“It- don’t a-apologize… I- it’s nice…”

Now it’s Francis’ turn to be shocked, Matthew wonders if maybe what he said was too far… Maybe it was just an-

No, no it isn’t. The way Matthew knows this is since Francis closes the small distance between them. This one has much more heat to it, it suddenly feels like the room is heating up to Matthew. The kiss is hot, wet and heavy. He feels so guilty at this moment. Of course, there’s a small voice in the back of his head, telling him that he isn’t the first one in his relationship.

Cheating can be a two person game.

  


* * *

A Losing Battle

* * *

“Why didn’t you help when the building burned down?”

“Are police against PeachTree? Will you burn down the next studio too?”

“Was this all a ploy from two discriminated officers who got fired for being married?”

“Did you burn the studio over being a gay-”

“We aren’t taking questions. Thank you.”

The last one really struck a chord, well, they all did. A few hours after the building burned down, Marrakesh released all he knew on both Tino and Berwald. Apparently they weren’t just keeping an eye on that man; he was watching them too. He got much farther in his research though, since he exploited everything, how Tino and Berwald didn’t really talk about their marriage in the office. Also, how the information tracking on Marrakesh turned out illegal. Then, the ‘report’ on them stated how Marrakesh ‘valiently’ got the papers on him back. So the public assumed that Tino and Berwald burned the studio down. Right after the thing got put all over social media, they got fired. Tino still can’t believe how much the public trusts that man. If only they knew the truth. Tino knows he and Berwald got close to the root of it all. They must have been too close since Marrakesh took action against himself. It’s a smart move, burning down his own studio and not-so mildly suggesting it was an act by some disgruntled officers. Ever since they got fired, the media has been relentless, asking question after pointed question. Tino wants to just lie down and sleep. For a whole week. Hopefully he’ll realize this whole thing was just a terrible dream. Just before that interview. Everything before that was like a dream, it was all like a movie then, a good, happy movie where the good guys win. Sadly, things aren’t so cliche; this is nonfiction, where things are always complicated. 

“I- I can’t believe this! Nobody knew our names until now! I thought it would be after we put that man in prison! Ugh…”

“Mhm…”

Tino slams shut the passenger car door, he lays his head down on the dashboard. He still can’t believe it. How can they fall so far? A single post on a social media account completely ruins them. Now, they don’t have their badges anymore, they can’t get any information anymore since people might yell, ‘that’s the studio killers!’ or something ridiculous like that. Tino sighs when he feels Berwald’s hand rubbing his back reassuringly. Of course, not much can really assure Tino at the moment. Thankfully, this is one of them.

“I’m sorry… I just- I don’t know what to do? That’s about five whole years of our lives, Ber! We can’t just give this up…”

“Hm… Think we need da wait f’r tha wild stuff ta relax…”

Tino closes his eyes in irritation when he hears a group of journalists and whatnot, gathering around Berwald’s car. Tino is so done being hounded with question after question. He doesn’t think it’s fair. Both of them lose their jobs over a single claim. It’s true, but still, it could have been a lie from an angered person. Maybe someone who knew a person who got convicted and wanted revenge against the officers. Of course, when Tino and Berwald were regular officers, they only caught petty crimes such as small robberies and driving without a license plate. Then, they got promoted to detectives, when they found that case while digging through the case files. It took a whole year for them to find the ‘mysterious director’s’ name since it was oddly scratched out in the file. It was a whole year of dedicated studying and intense working to finally uncover the name. On that night, Berwald proposed, it was so awkward, and each of them hadn’t slept in a few days. Yet, to Tino, it was the most amazing moment of his life. They also slept the best they had ever since the case started. Berwald proposed again, formally since neither of them really knew what the hell they were doing the first time. The wedding was private, only close friends and approving family members. Both Tino and Berwald agreed to not talk about their marriage at work since it’s a controversial thing in the workplace; especially the force. Tino knows his thinking is getting oddly sentimental, maybe since somehow, Marrakesh was able to dig up almost everything on them. Tino thinks it’s insane, as if the man has a camera on them and takes precise notes on everything they do. 

Tap tap tap!

Tino turns his head and almost yells, he sees a photographer, with a camera in hand. The flash flashes on both of them, a blinding light so bright it takes a moment for Tino’s eyes to adjust again.

“I got a picture!”

“Perfect! That’ll look great! Front page here we come!”

Tino blinks in horror at hearing those words, great. Now the entire continent of America will see what’s going on. Especially the front page. Tino knows this was most likely all that ridiculous film director’s plan to get everyone off the trail Tino and Berwald paved with their bare hands for the world to see.

“Wait-!”

“Don’t… They’ll try somethin’ if ya go after em’...”

Tino lets go of the car door handle. Berwald’s right. The reporters might say he went and tried to take them down if he asks a question. 

“This… This is ridiculous! I can’t believe this… We got framed! Where’s our justice?”

“Don’t get any…”

Tino frowns as he looks outside the car window and sees the photographer and someone else running off with their new mug that’s going to be on every newspaper and news group in three days. Those people look so happy that they’re about to rub salt into the gaping wound both Tino and Berwald have.

“Ber… What are we gonna do…? We don’t have anything else besides this? I- We have to get him in jail. He’s a cold blooded criminal…”

“I know…”

Tino feels lost. He doesn’t have a slightest clue where to begin or even how to. Both of them are now civilians, where they don’t have near the rights they did before. They can’t arrest someone if something goes horribly wrong. Worst of all, anything such as searching anywhere that is a restricted area could result in going to jail now. It’s horrible; how just a single message sent to the public can completely ruin people’s careers…

BZZZZZZT! 

Tino looks down at the cupholder, he sees Berwald’s phone light up with a text message.

Matthias: Hey, you okay? Nobody’s replied to any of my texts. I know what happened was hella rough and all…

The message cuts off. At the same time, Tino and Berwald sigh. They know that people do care but still, getting over losing their jobs over such a ridiculous thing is so hard to get over.

“We… We’re gonna be okay… We- we can still do this, right?”

Maybe Tino is still a bit exhausted from passing out a few days ago, since he’s crying; again. In fact, he just started crying yet he knows it’s going to take a while to calm down. Berwald pulls Tino into his chest, right when Berwald does that, Tino starts to just sob. Tino knows he may be overreacting, but he can’t help it. This career, an officer, it’s the one thing he’s worked almost his whole life to be. Now, he’s sure he’s never going to get it back. Tino hates to wallow in his own self pity, it’s just he can’t help it anymore, he wants to- no, needs to just cry.

Right now, the sounds of cameras clicking really can’t bother Tino.

  


* * *

Released Footage

* * *

Feliks doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s been an actual wreck. He called the police but apparently, they were too busy to look for a missing person. Especially when Feliks told them that a director, Marrakesh told him about it. The second Feliks told officers that, they essentially told him to fuck off. Feliks doesn’t want to think about what might be happening to Toris at this very moment. If anything like what happened when paramedics found him last time, Feliks isn’t sure Toris will be okay. Then again, he wasn’t okay when he was in the hospital. Toris was fine for about twenty minutes when he woke up the first time after everything. Then, it all went straight to hell. Feliks wants to get to the bottom of this, he wants to know what and why, how and who, and which and where? Feliks knows he has at least a million questions, yet, getting answers won’t be easy. His house feels so roomy now. It’s a large tudor home that is big enough to house about ten people. Yet, it’s Feliks’ dream home. He saw it when he first landed in Hollywood from Poland. A bit after seeing said house, he met Toris. Or, crashed head on into him. Things came naturally after that like friends, to close friends, then to dating. During the close friends stage was when Feliks’ got enough money, he bought that beautiful house. Feliks begged Toris to move in since it seems so lonely being all by yourself. Toris did agree to move in with Feliks. He still kept his little one story house. 

There are so many memories in Feliks’ home. He never expected he’d be coming home to something so sad and empty.

Feliks flops on his couch; it’s as hard as a rock nowadays. Feliks remembers when he bought it, it was the first piece of furniture he bought in America. He also bought it when he was with Toris. So, even though Feliks knows he needs a new sofa, he’s going to keep this one until it most likely falls apart.

Since Feliks is all alone and lonely, he grabs the tv remote sitting on the table and turns on the tv. He can’t believe he’s watching daytime television. Well, actually it’s the dead of night but right now, it feels like Feliks just lost his job and is wasting away with a stupid cooking show. He just wants to take a nap since somehow this cooking show is pretty soothing. Feliks lays down-

Ding!

Feliks sits up instantly, so fast he now has those annoying headaches. He snatches his phone from the coffee table in front of him, it’s a text message.

Anonymous: You have been chosen to view a specific first scene of the upcoming movie that’s going to be famous for a lifetime! (Video)

Feliks double taps the text so he can see it fully, who’s this person? This isn’t a link to some website, so it can’t be dangerous to his phone. Or, maybe there’s a new hacking scam going around and Feliks is gullible enough to be the first one to try it. Still, he’s curious. A new movie? He’s been picked to see the first scene? That sounds almost legit, like a movie and they want opinions from random people to rate and review it? Sure? So, Feliks presses the play button on the video.

His whole phone screen goes black, a pitch black Feliks didn’t know his phone was even able to create. The screen is like that for a few seconds, Feliks is about to turn it off til he hears a scream. It’s coming from the phone but it scares Feliks so much that he jumps what seems a foot in his seat. Something about that scream seems so real… Like something horrifying actually is going on.

The still pitch black screen has audio, this time, hurried loud footsteps and heavy breathing. It goes on like that for about three seconds, then, whoever is running comes near a lamp-post. That’s when the camera switches from darkness to focus on a person, Feliks can’t see their face. All he gets from the person is clothes torn, a spot of a deep red on these dark green khakis. Feliks can see it since there’s a lot of that red. The person finally turns their head to the camera, Feliks gasps. The person… No way… It can’t be.

Toris?!

The lighting from the lamp-post makes it all so dim so Feliks can’t tell exactly who it is. Still, this person looks identical to him. Maybe Toris has a lost twin he never knew about? Who happens to live in America, who happens to be in the exact area and city they’re in, also happens to be an actor? It’s highly unlikely and Feliks knows it. He’s just trying to think of any other option as to what’s going on. 

‘Toris’ leans against the lamp-post, he looks disheveled and tired. Definitely not something makeup can do so ‘Toris’ really is tired and by the looks of it, panicked. His breathing started to intensify, where it goes from sounding a bit normal to struggling. ‘Toris’ doubles over, his hands are grasping at his chest so he can calm himself down. 

Feliks has to pause the video so he can take a moment to calm down. He is really hoping this isn’t Toris, since he looks in so much pain right now. Feliks has no clue what is going on, hopefully, he’ll know soon. He presses play again.

‘Toris’ falls to his knees, still grasping at his chest, he starts coughing, hard. After each cough comes a choked wheeze, as if ‘Toris’ can’t breathe. After three coughs like that, blood splatters on the pavement or whatever road he’s standing on. The blood splattering is a stark contrast to the light gray so it stands out, especially under the dim lamp-post lighting. The coughs subside after the blood. ‘Toris’ pushes himself off the ground, the camera shows his arm-

Feliks gasps again, pausing the video on ‘Toris’ arm. It’s shining a vibrant bright blue. Feliks swallows hard, this can’t be true. Toris is the only person most likely on earth who has that odd glow in his arm… Why…? Feliks’ morbid curiosity grows even more, so he continues on.

Toris doesn’t look like himself anymore, he looks less in pain, he looks taller… Stronger, even. Toris looks up to the full moon in the sky and laughs. This laugh, however, doesn’t sound right… It sounds darker, deeper than Toris sounds when laughing… The screen fades to black only for a moment before cutting to a bedroom, standing in the middle, with their back turned is a person packing a suitcase. Their phone starts to ring and they turn to face the camera. The person is a guy, with flax blond hair. He has these crazy bright blue eyes. 

“Hey mom! I know, I know! I’m gonna come home soon! I’m just super excited to see grandpa’s place after all these years! Yeah, yeah I’m gonna call once I get there!”

The guy hangs up the phone then sighs. There’s something about his eyes, despite what sounds like a pretty good day he’s having, his eyes look oddly empty. He finishes packing up his suitcase so he goes outside to get in his car. He sits in the car with his hands resting on the wheel before he just breaks down. He rests his head down, unaffected by the blaring sound of the car horn. He’s sobbing bullets right now. And yet again, it seems too real… The guy continues crying a bit before pulling himself together. He sighs, starting his car. The screen cuts to black again, before showing a close-up of a huge old wood mansion with some stone accents. The stone wraps up these tall wood posts, almost like a snake. In fact, it is. Two identical snakes are wrapped around the two wooden posts. It gives off an ominous feeling, even with a screen as distance. 

The guy in his midnight blue truck pulls up into the grass lot of the mansion. It doesn’t really have a driveway since it’s so old so the truck is parked awkwardly in the middle of the road. The guy gets out of the car, carrying his suitcase with him. He gets to the door and knocks a few times.

“Hello? Ah, Sir Miller, how great of you to stop by!”

“Uh… Do I know you? Anyway, it’s great to see this place again! Can I come in?”

The butler nods and lets the guy inside. The interior is beautiful, with soft cream walls and a deep bronze color floor. On the bronze floor is a bohemian style mustard rug that spans almost the entire floor. In the back of the room is a gigantic fireplace, on each side of it are these staircases that are magnificent, with specific carvings on each separate stair. The whole place looks like it’s frozen in time from the eighteen hundreds. Other than the fireplace it’s the only thing in the room, it gives off a beautiful vibe to it. Yet something seems off about the atmosphere in the scenery. The guy must think the same, since he’s looking around at the place as if it’s different.

“Uh… What happened to all the furniture? I remember a chaise-thingy in here?”

“Ah, well. Mr. Miller, when he inherited the house, he sold the furniture; or, most of it to get some extra money.”

“Wait what? My grandpa is alive! I called him a day ago! He was perfectly fine!”

“Hm… I’m sorry about that. But, he died a year ago. I heard, untimely circumstances or something. I’m sorry about that…”

The guy goes silent, he looks at the floor, studying it to see if something’s different.

“I uh… I think I’m going to go… I really don’t want to be here if nobody else is going to-”

“I’m sorry, you can’t leave yet.”

The butler closes the door before the guy can get out, there’s genuine fear on the guy’s face. It’s hard to understand why, though.

“W-why? I uh… My suitcase! I have more than one!”

“No you don’t, it’s not good to lie, I hope you know.”

The guy goes silent again, he looks scared. Which it’s hard to know why he would be.

“I- I really need to go…”

“Well, I suppose there’s not much I can do now… I’m sorry.”

The butler claps his hands and a loud howl is heard from what sounds like the upstairs. The guy’s eyes widen and he backs up, his back slams against the door.

“Wha- wait! What- what’s going on?!”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you yet…”

The howling continues for another second, before it stops. A familiar cynical laugh is heard. A person starts coming down the stairs, they creak under the weight of the person. The guy really does look terrified, even though so far there isn’t a reason to. Maybe just be curious or suspicious, not terrified. 

The person gets down the stairs, a evil look is in green-

Feliks nearly swallows his tongue, he sees Toris, again. This time, he looks even worse, there’s dark red stains almost everywhere on his shirt, his clothes are torn in some spots, which is where the red is the most prominent. Feliks can see small cuts nearly everywhere, he isn’t sure he can continue watching this. Yet, he presses play anyway, despite what he’s thinking.

“This is who I’m given? HAH! He looks pathetic! I get held here like an animal against my will and you bring this thing to me!? Pfft!”

‘Toris’ sounds so different, it can’t be him… Not anymore, his voice even has a different accent to it, a Russian one. The butler goes running over to ‘Toris’, who also looks fearful.

“My Lord! We have searched for someone who could be of use to you! He is it! I promis-!”

‘Toris’ rolls his eyes, he raises his hand in a beckoning manner, only to close his fist tightly. Right when he does that, his forearm glows brightly. Also at the same time does the butler start to convulse, his eyes roll into the back of his head. Thick lines of blood roll from his mouth and nose. By the looks of it, he tries to scream, only to make a gurgling sound, he’s choking on his own blood… ‘Toris’ continues to tighten his fist into a ball, a few drops of blood fall from his palm onto the mustard rug. The second that happened, the butler’s neck snaps to the side. It looks wrong, it doesn’t look like the body should be able to do that. The body stops convulsing right after. When the butler’s body falls to the floor, like a doll, bright red lines start to course up every limb.

The screen fades to black one more time before the play button shows up again.

Feliks’ jaw is agape, he can’t believe it… Toris, no… That isn’t him… It can’t be? The whole situation of that butler being killed… It looks too real, like it actually happened…

Toris would never…?  
  
---


End file.
